


Fifty Shades Of Styles (#1)

by medicineshome



Series: Fifty Shades [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottomlouis, BoyxBoy, M/M, Topharry, domHarry, if you never read but saw the movies please give it a try, larrystylinson, sublouis, ziammaybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-06-15 08:05:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 45,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medicineshome/pseuds/medicineshome
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is a young and inexperienced literature student. Harry Styles is a feared, charismatic president of a powerful international corporation.Fate will lead Louis to interview Harry for a college journal. In the sophisticated and luxurious surroundings of a skyscraper, Louis finds himself strangely attracted to the enigmatic, shadowy man of enormous beauty who is Harry Styles.By chance or not, they meet again a few days later. The ruthless businessman proves himself incapable of resisting the student's charm. Harry wants Louis desperately, however, Louis has to accept the bizarre terms Harry proposes.Louis hesitates because all the power scares him. Minibars, expensive cars, hotel rooms, good champagne and private planes; they don't mean anything to Louis... but what he fears the most is Harry's obsession for control. Louis hesitates, torn between Harry's dark secrets and his own irrepressible desire. Is Louis ready to give in?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Version number 1 (Top Harry)
> 
> ¡ 5 books  
> ¬ Fifty Shades Of Styles  
> ¬ Fifty Shades Of Freedom  
> ¬ Fifty Shades Of Stylinson  
> ¬ Styles  
> ¬ Freedom 
> 
> Version number 2 (Top Louis)
> 
> ¡ 4 books  
> ¬ The Lover  
> ¬ Obsession  
> ¬ Confession  
> ¬ TL Extras

**[Wattpad Version](https://www.wattpad.com/story/101545703-fifty-shades-of-styles-l-s) **

 

**-x-**

I looked displeased at my image in the mirror. 

_Fuck my hair, there is no way to stay in place. Also, fuck Liam Payne for being sick and sending me into this torment. I'm supposed to be studying for my final exams, that so happen to be next week, but here I am, trying to brush my wet hair with the hairbrush._

_I can't sleep with wet hair. I can't sleep with wet hair._ Reciting this phrase several times, I tried once more to control it with the hairbrush. I rolled my eyes, exasperated, and I started to look at the pale boy with brown hair and big blue eyes that was looking back at me, and I gave up. The only option I had was to leave my rebel hair down and hope that I would have a minimally presentable appearance.

_Liam and I share a flat, and he chose this precise day to be sick._

For that reason, Liam couldn't attend the interview he managed to snag with a tycoon, a mega-industrial that I had never heard of, for his college journal, so I was recruited. 

I should be studying really hard for my final exams. Not to mention I had a project to deliver and I was supposed to go work in the afternoon, but no, I had to drive 265 kilometers to the center of Seattle to meet with the enigmatic general-director of Styles Enterprises Holdings, Inc.As an exceptional entrepreneur who was a prominent patron of our university, his time proved to be extraordinarily precious, far more precious than mine, but he had given an interview with Liam. 

_A really important one, he told me. Fuck to his extra-curricular activities._

Liam was curled up on the couch in the living room when I walked off the room.

"Louis, I'm so sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. I would need six more to get another one, and by that time we both already finished college. I'm the editor of the paper, I can't ruin this, please!" Liam begged me with a scratchy voice for having a sore throat.

_How does he do that? Even sick, he looks dashing, brown hair well brushed and brown bright eyes, now with a little red and a few tears._

I ignored my impulse of unwanted sympathy.

"Of course I'm going, Liam. You should go back to bed. Do you want a Tylenol?"

"Yes, please." He answered and I went to grab it in the kitchen to give it to him. "Here are the questions and my digital recorder. You just need to press here to start recording. Take notes, and  I will transcribe everything." Liam explained while I took the things from his hand.

"I don't know anything about him..." I muttered, trying, without success, to suppress the panic that started to build up in me.

"The questions will guide you. Go! You have a long way to drive. I don't want you to be late."

"Okay, I'm leaving. Go back to bed. I made you soup for you to eat later."

I looked at him affectionately.

_I would only do this for you, Liam._

"Alright. Good luck. And thank you, Louis. Like always, you saved my life."

With a small smile, I grabbed my backpack, putting everything inside, and I left to my car, still not believing that I let Liam convince me to do the interview but thinking about it, Liam could convince everyone to do whatever he wanted. 

_He's going to be an exceptional journalist. He's communicative, strong, persuasive, combative, beautiful; my best friend._

**ººº**

The roads were empty when I left Vancouver, Washington, in direction of Interstate 5. It was early and I only needed to be in Seattle at 2pm. Fortunately, Liam lent me his sports car, a Mercedes CLK. 

_I don't see Wanda, my old beetle, doing a trip so long. The Mercedes is really cool to drive and the kilometers fly when I go faster._

My destiny was the headquarter of the global company of Mister Styles, an enormous building full of offices, twenty floors of glass and steel, all in curve lines, with Styles written on it, in steel, above the main entrance. 

I arrived fifteen minutes before 2pm and I got in, relieved for not being late, facing an enormous lobby, quite frankly intimidating, made of glass, steel, and white granite.

Behind the granite counter, a good-looking young woman, well dressed with blonde hair, smiled at me. She was dressing the blazer and the white shirt more impeccable that I ever saw, looking completely immaculate.

"Hello, I came to talk with Mister Styles. My name is Louis Tomlinson, I came in the name of my friend Liam Payne."

"Just a moment, Mister Tomlinson" She frowned and I stayed there, awkwardly in front of her. I started to wish that I had grabbed a good blazer from Liam, instead of dressing my denim jacket. I made the effort of dressing in my greatest pair of jeans, my brown boots, and a blue t-shirt.  _Being me, this is presentable._  I put my fringe to the side and pretended that the woman was not intimidating me.

"We were waiting for Mister Payne. Please sign here, Mister Tomlinson." I did what she asked and she started to explain the way. "Go to the last elevator to your right and go to the twentieth floor" She smiled at me with sympathetically.

She handed me a card with the word 'visitor' on it and I couldn't help but give her a half-smile.  _I'm sure it is obvious that I'm only here to visit. I don't fit in here._  I thanked her before going to the elevators zone, passing by two bodyguards, both well good dressed, compared to me, with their black suits.

The elevator took me with high speed to the twentieth floor. The door opened and I found myself in another big lobby, once more, all made of glass, steel and white granite. I found another young and blonde secretary, dressing impeccably in black and white, and she got up to greet me.

"Mister Tomlinson, can you wait here for a second, please?" She said, indicating an area with white chairs.

Behind the chairs, there was a big meeting room with glass walls and a big wood table with, at least, twenty chairs made of the same material. Behind the table, there was a ground to ceiling window with a magnificent view to the urban cut of Seattle that crossed the city towards the Puget Sound.It was an awesome view to see and I stayed, momentarily, paralyzed by the view. 

_Wow!_

I sat, taking the questions from my backpack to read them, calling Liam all the names I knew for not giving me a brief biography. 

_I don't know a thing about the man I'm about to interview. He can be ninety or thirty. Not knowing is exasperating and my nervousness is back, leaving me worried. I never felt comfortable in one on one interviews, I prefer the anonymity of a group discussion where I can sit discreetly in the back of the room. To be honest, I prefer my own company, with a classic English book on my hands, curled up in a library armchair from campus, not here sitting full of nerves in a colossal building of glass and stone._

I rolled my eyes, censuring myself.

_Control yourself, Tomlinson. Judging by the building, really modern build, I imagine that Styles is in his forties: good shape, tan skin, and blonde, considering his staff._

Another elegant and impeccably dressed blonde left a big room on the right. 

_But what is this? Is everyone blonde here? It looks like Stepford*._

I took a deep breath and got up.

"Mister Tomlinson?" The blonde called me.

"Yes" I answered with a raspy voice and I cleared my throat. "Yes."

_There, it sounded more confident._

"Mister Styles will see you soon. Can I get your jacket?"

"Oh, yes, please"

I took it off with some difficulties because of my backpack on my shoulder and the questions on my hand.

"Did someone offered you something to drink?"

"Uhm... No"

_Oh damn! Is the blonde number one on this floor in trouble?_

Blonde number two rose her eyebrow and looked at the young woman behind the counter.

"Do you want tea, coffee, water?" She asked, looking at me again.

"Just a cup of water, thank you..." I muttered.

"Diana, please go get a cup of water for Mister Tomlinson." Her voice sounded austere. Diana got up, walking fast to a room behind her. "My apologies, Mister Tomlinson. Diana is a new intern. You can sit, Mister Styles will be ready in 5 minutes."

Diana came back with a glass of water with ice.

"Here, Mister Tomlinson"

"Thank you!"

Blonde number two went to the big counter with her heels echoing in the granite floor and she sat, they both getting back to their work.

_Maybe Mister Styles insists that all his employees have to be blonde._

I was asking myself if it would be legal when the door of the office opened and a black man came out, tall and good looking, well dressed, with a few dreadlocks. 

_I'm, definitely, underdressed._

He turned back and said to inside. 

"Golf this week, Styles?" I didn't hear the answer. He turned, saw me and smiled at me, making his eyes scrunching so much they nearly close. Diana got up and called the elevator, appearing more nervous that I was. "Have a good afternoon, ladies and gentleman." The man said, entering the elevator.

"Mister Styles will see you now, Mister Tomlinson. Please come in!" Blonde number two said.

I got up, trembling a little, trying to dominate my nerves. I grabbed the backpack, abandoning my glass of water and I walked to the door that was partially open.

"You don't need to knock, just go in." The number two said with a helpful smile and I nodded, softly.

I pushed the door open and went into with an imbalance, before stumbling on my own feet and throwing myself headfirst into the office.

_What the hell! Me and my two left feet. I'm on my hands and knees at the entrance of Mister Styles office._

I felt two hands on my waist, pulling me up, helping me stand. 

_Oh my god. I couldn't be more ashamed right now. Damn._

I had to force myself to look up. 

_Wow, he's really young!_

"Mister Payne" He held out his hand for me when I got up. "I'm Harry Styles. Are you okay? Do you want to sit?"

_So young and attractive, really attractive._

Tall, dressed in a grey suit, white shirt, and black tie, with a brown curly head and intense green eyes. I took a few minutes before answering.

"Yeah. Actually..." I started.  _If he has more than thirty, I'm a child._  Stunned, I held out my hand to him and we greeted each other. When our fingers touched each other, I felt a chill go down my spine and, embarrassed, I pulled my hand back.  _It's just electricity._  I started to blink, to the rhythm of my heart rate. "Mister Payne is not feeling good and he sent me. I hope you don't mind, Mister Styles."

"And you are?"

His voice was raspy, with a little joy on it, but it was hard to say with his impassive facial expression. He looked minimally interested, but he looked, above all, educated.

"Louis Tomlinson. I study English literature with Liam, er... Mister Payne, in WSU Vancouver."

"I see" He simply said but I swear I saw a small smile on his lips. "Do you want to sit?" He said indicating me the chair in front of his desk and I just nodded, sitting.

 _His office is too big for just one person._  

In front of the big windows, there was a modern desk made of mahogany, where six people could sit and have dinner. It was equal to the support table beside a couch. Everything else was white; ceiling, ground, and walls, but not the wall next to the couch, where I could see a mosaic of little frames, thirty-six frames to be exact. 

Looking precious, many mundane and irrelevant frames, painted with every little detail and with an enormous precision that makes it look like photographs. Put together, impressive.

"Wow..." I whispered to myself.

"From a local artist. Trouton." Styles said when our eyes crossed.

"They are amazing. They make the common, look extraordinary." I muttered, stunned with him and the frames.

He tilted his head to the side, looking at me intently.

"I couldn't agree more, Mister Tomlinson" He answered with a soft voice and for some inexplicable reason I started to blush.

Aside from the frames, all the office was cold, sober and ascetic. I wondered if it reflected the personality of Adonis who allowed himself to sink gracefully into one of the white armchairs that I had before me. 

I shook my head, disturbed by my thoughts and I grabbed my backpack to take the questions that Liam had provided me, again. Next, I prepared the digital recorder and my hands seemed like butter since I dropped it twice on the desk in front of me. Styles didn't say anything, waiting patiently while I felt more and more ashamed. 

_I don't have experience for this and I'm sure he already noticed by now._

When I gathered the courage to look at him, Styles was looking at me, with one hand on his lap and the other on his chin, with his long index finger on his lips.

"S-Sorry" I stuttered. "I'm not used to this"

"Take your time, Mister Tomlinson." He said.

"Do you mind if I record the questions?"

"After all the work you had to prepare the recorder, you only ask now?" He rose his eyebrows but I was certain he wanted to laugh and I just blushed.  _Is that a provocation? I hope so._  I looked at him, blinking, not knowing what to say, and I think he felt sorry for me because he condescended. "No, I don't mind!" I looked inside my backpack to take the notebook and pen when I noticed I didn't bring any pen.  _Well done Louis._ "Here" He grabbed a pencil, giving it to me and I thanked him with a nod, grabbing the pencil with my fingers.

"Did Liam, I mean, Mister Payne, explain to you what is the interview for?"

"Yes, to put in the edition of the academic journal of the delivery of the diplomas because I'll be the one delivering them in the ceremony this year"

_Ah! For me that was new and it triggered me a little that a man a little older than me, let's say six years, it's super successful and will hand me my diploma._

I rose an eyebrow, paying attention again to the notebook in my hands.

"That..." I swallowed my nerves. "I have some questions for you, Mister Styles..." I put my fringe to the side.

"That's what I thought." He said, without expression.

_He's mocking me now._

I felt my cheeks burn and I fixed my posture, putting my shoulders back trying to look taller and confident. Keyword, trying. I pressed the button of the recorder and I tried to build a professional posture.

"You are really young and, yet, you have already built a big empire. What is the reason for your success?" I looked up at him and he gave me a small smile, but he looked slightly disappointed.

"Doing business it's dealing with people, and I am really good at evaluating them. I know what stimulates them, I know what makes them come out of the shell and what doesn't, what inspires them and how to encourage them. I have a great team working with me, they are exceptional and I pay them what they deserve." He made a pause and fixed his green eyes on me. "It's my conviction that, to have success in any project, we have to be able to dominate the subject, know him in every way, every detail. I work hard, really hard, to get it. I make decisions based on logic and facts. I have a natural instinct that allows me to identificate and to feed a good idea, solid and good people. Because the main question is the customer."

"Maybe it's just luck"

"The more I work, the more my luck seems to increase. In fact, it's really about having the right people on the team and properly targeting their energies. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said, 'People's growth and development is the noblest form of leadership'."

"Sounds like a control freak..." The words got out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Oh, I have control in everything I do, Mister Tomlinson" He answered, without the minimal trace of humor on his smile.

I looked at him, and he didn't look away. My pulse rose and I felt my cheeks getting hot. 

_Why does he leave me so disturbed? Maybe it is because he is beautiful? His fiery eyes? Maybe the way he swipes his index on his lip? I wish he'd stop with that._

"Rig-" I started but he stopped me.

"Besides, an immense power acquires itself when in our secret ramblings we are convinced that we are born to control things" He continued his thought with a more soft voice.

"You feel like you have immense power?"

_Control freak._

"I have more than forty thousand people working for me, Mister Tomlinson. That gives me a big responsibility, power if you prefer. If I were to decide that I was no longer interested in the telecommunication business, and sold all this, a month or so later, twenty thousand people would be in trouble to pay their home loans."

My chin fell on the ground, disconcerted by that lack of humility.

"Don't you have to answer to any board of directors?" I asked, indignant.

"I own this company. I don't have to answer to any board." He raised his eyebrow. 

_Of course, it would be something I would know if I had done some research. Damn, he's really rude._

"Do you have any interests besides your work?"I changed the subject.

"I have many interesses Mister Tomlinson" A small smile played on his lips. "Very varied" And for some reason, his firm glare left me confused and hot. A twinkle in his eyes denounced some malicious thinking.

"But if you work a lot, what do you do to relax?"

"Relax?" He smiled, revealing pearly white teeth and I stopped breathing.  _He is really handsome, i_ _t should be illegal to be so attractive._  "Well, to 'relax' like you said, I like to sail my boat, I like to fly, I dedicate myself to numerous physical activities..." He changed his position. "I'm a very rich man, Mister Tomlinson, and I have expensive and absorbent hobbies."

Wanting to change the subject, I quickly jumped to Liam's questions.

"You invest in the industry. Why specifically?" I asked.

_Why does he make me so uncomfortable?_

"I like to build things. I like to know how they work, what makes them move, how to build and to deconstruct. And I have a passion for planes. What can I say?"

"Sounds more like your heart and not logic or facts..." The corner of his mouth started to rise and he looked at me with an appraising look.

"Possible. Although there are persons who say I don't have a heart"

"Why they say that?"

"Because they know me well." His lips opened a dry smile.

"Would your friends say you are an easy-going person?" I regretted the question as soon as I said it. 

_It's not on Liam's list._

"I'm a really reserved person, Mister Tomlinson. I put a big effort into protecting my privacy. I don't do interviews with frequency."

"Why did you accepted this one?"

"Because I'm a patron of the university, and because I could not get Mister Payne off me anyway. He was pestering my PR team, and I admire that kind of tenacity."

_I know Liam can be very persistent. That's why I'm sitting here squirming at his penetrating gaze instead of being studying for my exams._

"You also invest in agricultural technologies. Why are you interest in that area?"

"We can't eat money, Mister Tomlinson and there are too many people on this planet that have nothing to eat."

"That sounds philanthropic. Is it something that you love? Feed the poor in the world?"

He answered, shrugging.

"It's pure business." He muttered although it sounded honest to me.

_It makes no sense; feed the poor in the world? There's no gaining money in that, only the virtuosity of the ideal._

I looked at the next question, confused with his attitude.

"Do you have any philosophy? If yes, which one?"

"I don't have a philosophy in that sense. Maybe, a principal guiding principle from Carnegie, 'The man who obtains the capacity to appropriate his mind completely can take ownership of everything else that is rightly due to him'. I'm a very singular person, I'm really determinate. I like to have control over me and on the people around me."

"So, you want to own things?"

_Control freak._

"I want to deserve them, but yes, in fact."

"You look like a supreme consumer."

"I am."

He smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, although a little dimple appeared on his right cheek. Again, he didn't seem to fit in the category of someone that wanted to feed the world, so I couldn't help but think that we were talking about something else, but I didn't have any idea why or what. I swallowed hard, feeling the temperature of the office rising. 

_It might be just me. I just want this interview to end. I'm sure Liam has enough answers to put in the paper._

 I looked at the next question.

"You are adopted. Do you think that has an influence on the person you are today?"

 _Oh, this is too personal._  

I looked at him, hoping that he was not offended and saw that his forehead had a frown.

"I don't know."

_It made me curious._

"How old were you when you were adopted?"

"That is a matter of public knowledge, Mister Tomlinson." His tone was severe. 

_Damn. Yeah, sure, if I knew I was doing the interview I would have done a little research first._

Jumbled, I changed the question.

"You sacrificed your family for work"

"That's not a question." He said dryly.

"Sorry..."  _I didn't know what to do; he makes me feel like a child with bad behavior._  I tried again. "You had to sacrifice your family for your work?"

"I have a family. I have a brother and a sister and friendly parents. I'm not interested in aumenting my family more than that."

"Are you gay, Mister Styles?"

He took a deep breath and I shrunk, without knowing what to do. 

_Damn. Why didn't I read all this before asking? I can't tell him that I'm just reading the questions. Fuck Liam and his curiosity._

"No, Louis, I am bisexual. That is also from public knowledge." He rose an eyebrow, a cold look in his eyes. 

_He doesn't look happy._

"I'm sorry. It's, uhm... here."

_It's the first time he says my name._

My pulse rose again and I felt my face burn again. Nervously, I put my fringe to the side and he tilted his head to the side.

"The questions are not yours?"

"Uhm... no. Liam, Mister Payne, wrote the questions."

"Are you colleagues of the academic journal?"

_Oh, no. I don't have anything to do with the academic journal. It's his extracurricular activity, not mine._

My face started to burn.

"No. He shares the flat with me." I answered and he passed his hand on his chin, evaluating me with his green eyes.

"You offered yourself to come?" He asked me in frighteningly calm voice.

 _Wait,_   _who is doing the interview, again?_  

His glare was intense and it was like I could only say the truth.

"I was called. He's not well..."

"Which explains a lot."

Someone knocked on the door and blonde number two entered.

"Mister Styles, sorry for the interruption, but your next appointment is in two minutes."

"We are not finished yet, Aimee. Please, cancel my next reunion."

Aimee hesitated and was speechless, looking lost at him. He turned his head slowly to look at her and raised an eyebrow. while she started to blush. 

_Oh, well. It's not just me._

"Very well, Mister Styles." She said before leaving.

"Where were we, Mister Tomlinson?"

_Oh, now we're back to Mister Tomlinson._

"I don't want to bother you"

"I want to know more about you. Sounds fair."

His eyes started shining in curiosity.  _Bullshit. What does he want to know about me?_ He rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and made a triangle with his hands. 

_His mouth is really attractive._

"There's not much to know..." I swallowed hard.

"What do you want to do when you finish college?"

I shrugged, confused with his attention. 

 _Moving to Seattle with Liam, look for a job._   _Actually, I never thought further than after the final exams._

"I don't have any plans yet, Mister Styles. First I need to pass my final exams..." 

_To which I should be studying right now, instead of being in your sumptuous, pretentious and sterile office, exposed to your harsh gaze while I feel uncomfortable._

"We have an excellent plan for interns." He said in a soft voice and I raised my eyebrow. 

_Is he offering me a job?_

"Uhm... I'll keep that in mind..." I muttered, confused. "Although, I don't know if I would fit in here..."

 _Damn_ ,  _I'm thinking out loud again._

"Why do you say that?" He tilted his head to the side, intrigued, with a smile wanting to appear on his lips.

"It's obvious, isn't it? I'm a guy, clumsy, sloppy and I'm not blonde."

"It's not obvious to me..." He looked at me intently, without a shade of humor and I felt weird in some lower muscles.  _I'm feeling them burning._  I looked down so I could run away from his glare and I linked my fingers together.  _What is happening?_   _I got to go immediately._  I grabbed the recorder to turn it off. "Do you want to see the building?" He asked.

"I'm sure you have a lot to do Mister Styles and I have a long trip ahead..."

"You'll drive back to Vancouver?" He seemed surprised, even anxious. before looking at the window since it started raining. "Well, you better be careful..." He spoke with a severe tone. "You have everything you need?" He still asked.

"Yes, Sir..." I answered, putting the recorder inside my backpack. He half-closed his eyes with a speculative glance. "Thank you for the interview, Mister Styles."

"My pleasure." He answered, always polite.

I got up and he held out his hand for me.

"See you next time, Mister Tomlinson."

_That sounded like a challenge to me or a threat, I'm not sure which one yet._

I frowned. 

 _Will we see each other again?_  

I shook our hands again and the weird connection between us came back. 

_It must be my nerves._

"Mister Styles." I nodded.

He walked to the door with his athletic gracefulness as I put my backpack on my shoulder and he opened the door completely.

"Just making sure you pass through the door without falling, Mister Tomlinson..." His voice had a hint of humor in it and he showed me a little smile. 

_He didn't forget my entrance, obviously._

"Very thoughtful of you Mister Styles..." I answered back and his smile only got bigger, making his cute dimples appear.

 _Great, he finds me funny._  

I walked to the lobby of his office's floor, getting surprised when he left the office after me. Aimee and Diana looked up, both surprised as well.

"Did you bring any jacket?" Styles asked.

"A denim jacket..."

Diana quickly got up to go get the jacket, which Styles took from her hands before she could hand it to me. He grabbed it open and I put the backpack on my feet to pass my arms through the jacket sleeves, blushing a lot. He left his hands on my shoulders for a couple of seconds, the touch leaving me breathless. 

If he noticed my reaction, he didn't show it. With his long index finger, he pressed the elevator button to call it and I picked up my backpack. We stayed there waiting; me, very uncomfortable, he, very confident. The doors opened and I walked in fast, trying to run away from the situation. 

 _I really have to go._  

When I turned to look at him, he was looking to me, with a hand on the frame of the elevator. 

_He is really, really attractive. It is unnerving._

"Louis." He fired up with a curt nod.

"Harry." I mimicked.

_And, thank god, the door closed._

**-x-**

***** _**Stepford:** _ **Scene of the book** _**The Stepford Wives** _ **by Ira Levin from 1972.**


	2. Chapter 2

My heart was beating faster than ever. 

The elevator reached the first floor and I left it as soon as the doors opened, stumbling for what felt like the millionth time, the difference was that I caught myself before I fell.

I quickly walked to the main door, feeling the fresh, clean and humid air once I passed it. I looked up, feeling the raindrops fall on my face, refreshing me. I closed my eyes and I took a deep breath, trying to regain my balance.

_No man ever made me feel the way Harry Styles had just made me feel and I don't understand why. Was it because he is pretty? Or maybe because he's polite? His wealth? His power? I don't understand my irrational reaction._

I sighed in relief. 

 _But what the hell was that interview?_  

My heart began to beat normally again as I walked to my car, my breathing calmer as my fingers gripped the pencil Styles had given me.

**ººº**

The limits of the city stayed behind me and the interview was still in my head, making me feel stupid, clearly having a disproportionate reaction to something imaginary. 

 _Okay, he is really attractive, confident, full of authority, full of himself, but, in the other hand, he's arrogant and cold. Well, outside at least._  

I felt an involuntary chill go down my spine. 

_He can be as arrogant as he wants to be, he has the right to be, he already has so much at such a young age. He doesn't have any patience when t comes to mistakes, but then again, why would he?_

As I thought about how the interview went I began to get pissed at Liam again, but that time because he hadn't filled me in on the man I was interviewing, a small biography would have sufficed.

As I was driving in the direction of Interstate 5, my thoughts seemed to go as fast as the speed of the vehicle. I was intrigued by the thought of what led a person to go look for success in their life with so much determination. Some of his answers were cryptic like he had some hidden agenda. And Liam's questions,  _ugh!_  The adoption and asking if he was gay considering everyone knows it. 

_Well, everyone but me._

Another chill went down my spine.

 _I can't believe I asked those things._ _Every time I think in those questions, I shudder with shame. Damn you, Liam Payne._

I glanced at the odometer noticing the speed I was going, making me slow it down and drive carefully, more careful than I ever would in any situation. And I knew part of it had to do with the man with piercing green eyes and a raspy voice telling me to be careful. I shook my head, realizing that Styles was twice my age.

_Forget it, Louis._

I just decided that at the end of the day, it was an interesting experience but I couldn't keep having him torment my mind.

_I have to turn the page, especially since I know I would never see him again._

That thought alone made me feel good.

I turned on the radio and put the volume in the maximum, leaning back all way in my seat and I charged the accelerator. Arriving Interstate 5, I realized I could go faster since it was completely empty.

**ººº**

We live in a small community of duplex flats, near to the campus of the Vancouver WSU. I had luck, Liam's parents bought him the flat and I just had to pay my part of the rent.

_It's my home for four years now._

I parked the car, already imagining the report Liam would want.

_Believe me, he knows how to be persistent. Well, at least I have the digital recorder since I completely forgot to take notes but I kept Styles black pencil with his surname in silver. I hope I don't have to give any more information on how the interview went._

"Lou! You're back." Liam was sat in the exact same place he was when I left, almost as if he hadn't moved, but he had books around him, signaling that he moved at least to go get them. Studying for the exams, no doubt, still in his special pajamas that he uses when he goes through a break-up and for when he is depressed or sick. He jumped off his spot, hugging me tightly. "I was worried. I thought you were coming back earlier."

_Oh, the time passed more than I had thought, considering that the interview lasted longer than expected._

I took the recorder out of my backpack, balancing it in front of him.

"Lou, thank you so much for doing this. I owe you one, I know. How was it? How is he like?"

_Oh boy, here we go. Liam Payne, the inquisitor. What am I going to say?_

"Well, good thing it's done and I don't have to see him again. He is very intimidating, you know?" I said, shrugging. "He is very determinant, intense even... and young. Really young." Liam looked at me with an innocent glance and I rose an eyebrow. "Don't give me that look. Why didn't you tell me anything about him? He made me feel like an idiot for not knowing basic information."

"Oh, Louis, I'm sorry, that didn't even cross my mind." Liam covered his mouth with his hand and I huffed.

"Basically, he was courteous, formal, looked like he aged a few years. He doesn't speak like a man in his twenties. How old is he, anyway?"

"Twenty-seven. Oh, Lou, I'm sorry. I should have given at least some information but I was so worried about missing this interview that I forgot. Give me the recorder, I'll transcribe the interview." He asked and I passed it to him.

"You look better. Did you eat the soup?" I asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Yes, and it was delicious like always. I feel so much better." He smiled at me with gratitude and I looked at the clock.

"I have to go. I can still do my shift on Quin's."

"Lou, you will be exhausted."

"I'm fine, see you later."

**ººº**

I've worked at the Quin's ever since I entered WSU. It's the biggest independent store of construction material in Portland, and in four years I've worked I know a little bit of almost everything we sell, although, ironically, I don't know anything about bricolage. That's my dad's specialty.

I was happy for making my shift because it gave me another thing to think about over than Harry Styles. There was a lot of people in the store, summer was starting soon and everyone was beginning to decorate their houses again. Even Miss Quin seemed relieved to see me.

"Lou! I thought you couldn't make it today."

"My commitment didn't take as long as I thought it would. I can make some hours."

"I'm really happy to see you."

She asked me to go to the back, to filling some shelves, and I did, concentrating only on that action.

**ººº**

Later, when I arrived home, Liam was with his headphones, working on his computer. His nose was still a bit red, but he was writing something, completely concentrated.

_I'm so exhausted, for driving for so long, the interview and now Quin's._

I let my body fall on the couch, thinking about the work I had yet to finish and everything and I didn't study during the day for being with  **him**.

"You have good material here, Lou. Well done. I can't believe you refused his offer to show you the building. It's obvious that he wanted to spend more time with you." He smirked at me. I blushed, feeling my heart beat pick up but not for that reason at all.

 _He only wanted to show me the company so I could see that he does indeed own everything there._  

I noticed I was biting my lip and I prayed that Liam didn't notice so I was relieved when I noticed he was too focused on the transcription.

"I'm seeing what you meant by formal. Did you take notes?"

"Uhm... No, sorry..."

"It's okay. This is enough for a really good article. It's a pity that we don't have original pictures. The son of a bitch is beautiful, isn't he?"

"I think so..." I made a really big effort to seem disinterested and it seemed to work.

"Oh please, Lou! Not even you can't get away from his beauty!" He rose an eyebrow to me, with a smirk on his lips.

_Damn, my cheeks just started to burn again._

"You probably would have more things if you had done the interview..." I had to praise him to distract him from this subject.

"I doubt that Lou. Please, he practically offered you a job. Considering I asked you to go at the last minute, you did very well." He kept his eyes on me and I ignored him, walking to the kitchen. "But, seriously, what did you think of him?"  
  
_Damn, he's persistent and curious. Why doesn't he just drop the subject?_  
  
"He is very decisive, controlling, arrogant, even scary but very charismatic. I can understand your fascination with him." I commented, hoping he wouldn't touch the subject again.  
  
"You, fascinated by a man? I haven't seen that in a while." I rolled my eyes with his comment, starting to take out what I needed for a sandwich.  
  
"Why do you want to ask if he's gay considering that it's public information that he's bisexual? It was the most embarrassing question. I was so embarrassed and I didn't know what to do, he was really pissed about the question."  
  
"Because even though it's public information he never said it personally to anyone, it is public information because in the past he dated so many guys but never talked about it and I was just kinda wanting to see what he would answer..."  
  
"It was so embarrassing. Really embarrassing. I'm relieved that I'll never see him again."

"Wow, Lou, I doubt it was so bad. I think he was very impressed with you."   
  
_Impressed with me? Ridiculous._  
  
"Do you want a sandwich?"  
  
"Yes, please."  
  
We didn't speak more about Harry Styles during the small snack time, for my relief. After we ate, I sat with Liam at the dining room table and while he was working on the article I started to write my work about Tess of the d'Urbervilles*.   
  
_That woman was in the wrong place, wrong time, wrong century._  
  
When I finished, it was already midnight and Liam went to bed a few hours before so I went to my room, exhausted, but happy for doing so many things on a Monday.  
  
I shrunk into my white iron bed, wrapping my mother's blanket around me, closing my eyes and I fell asleep immediately.   
  
That night I dreamt about dark places, cold and white flowers, and green eyes.  
  
**ººº**

During the rest of the week, I focused on my studies and on the work at Quin's. Liam was also occupied, preparing the last edition of the college journal that he had to do before handing everything to the text editor, and was also studying for his final exams.

Wednesday he was so much better and I didn't have to the see the same pajamas anymore. I called Georgia, to talk to my mum Johannah, to know how she was but also for her to wish me good luck to my finals. She started to tell me about her new incursion of candle making -  _my mother is crazy about job opportunities._ Basically, she was bored and wanted something to occupy her time, but she had the ability to focus like a goldfish.

_Next week you can bet will be something new. And that alone worries me. I hope she had not mortgaged the house to fund the latest project. And I hope Dan, her relatively younger but much older than her husband, had an eye on her now that I'm not there. He seems to have his feet far better settled on the ground than Husband Number Three._

**"And you, how are things going?"**

I hesitated for a moment.

"I'm fine."

**"Lou? Did you meet someone?"**

_How does she do this?_

"No, mum, it's nothing. You will be the first to know if I meet someone."

**"Lou, you need to go out more, honey. You leave me worried."**

"Mum, I'm fine. How's Dan?"

_Distraction is the best way of changing the subject._

**ººº**

Later, I called Mark, my stepfather, the husband Number Two and the man I consider my father, the man who gave me his last name. It was a quick conversation. Actually, it was more some short answers to my careful questions. Mark is not a talking person but he's still alive, he still watches football on the telly or he goes bowling and fishing or makes his own furniture. Mark is a master carpenter and it is because of him that I know the difference between a sparse and a saw. He was fine though.

**ººº**

Friday night, Liam and I were talking about what to do since we needed to take our heads off the studies for a little bit, same for works and the college journal but the doorbell ringing made us stop thinking about that. On the other side of the door was our good friend Niall Horan with a bottle of champagne in his hand.

"Niall! It's awesome to see you here!" I gave him a quick hug. "Come in!"

Niall was the first person I met when I arrived WSU and he was so alone and lost like I was. That day, we saw a brother in each other, and we kept being friends since then. We have the same sense of humor and we found out that our dads, Mark and Bobby, went to the military together. As a result, our dads are good friends as well.

Niall studies engineering and it's the first in his family to reach university. He's really smart, but his true passion is photography, he has an excellent eye for good photography.

"I have some good news!" He said with a big smile on his face and a different glimmer in his eyes.

"Let me guess..." I closed the door after he entered. "You got them to not kick you out for another week!" I joked and he looked at me with a menacing stare before smiling.

"The Portland Place Gallery will expose my pictures next month!"

"Oh my God, that's amazing! Congratulations!" I hugged him tight once again and Liam did the same, with a big smile on his face.

"You should put that in the college journal!" Liam said and Niall just nodded to him.

"Let's celebrate, now! You have to go to the inauguration!" Niall looked intensely at me and I blushed. "Both of you, of course" He added, looking nervously to Liam.

_Niall and I are really good friends, but I know deep down he wants us to be more. He is beautiful and funny, but he's not for me. He's my brother. Liam annoys me a lot about that because he says I need the 'I need a boyfriend' gene. The truth is, I haven't found someone that... Well, that makes me feel attracted to him, that makes my knees weak, that makes my heart beat faster and makes me feel butterflies in my stomach._

Sometimes I asked myself if something was wrong with me.

_Maybe I wasted too much time in the company of my romantic literature heroes and in consequence my ideals and expectations are really high. But to be fair, no one made me feel like that._

_Until now._

_I don't want this kind of thoughts in my head. Not after that interview._

**Are you gay, Mr. Styles?**

_That question haunts me. I've had dreams about him since then, but I know it's just my system trying to put that again from my head. Yeah, it doesn't make any sense._

I looked at Niall who was opening the bottle of champagne. He's a bit tall and a bit toned and with the shirt he was wearing it was more visible. He also has blonde hair and intense blue eyes.

_Yes, Niall can be attractive as well, but I hope he is getting my message: we are just friends._

When the bottle opened, he looked up and smiled.

**ººº**

Saturday, the store was so full since it was normally the day most people went to buy more materials for bricolage. Me, Mister and Miss Quin, just like John and Patrick, my two other colleagues, were surrounded by clients. Around lunchtime, Miss Quin asked me to check in on some orders while I was in the cash register, sitting behind the counter and discretely eating my bagel.

I was doing my job, checking the numbers in the catalog of things we needed and ordered, looking between the catalog to the computer screen and again to the book, certifying the numbers.

It was at that moment that, for some reason, I looked up and saw a green pair of eyes looking at me. Harry Styles was right in front of me.

_Holy shit. Cardiac failure._

"Mister Tomlinson. What a nice surprise." His stare was so intense and I was probably looking like an idiot for being so surprised.

_What the hell is he even doing here? With his weekend clothes. Thick knit sweater, jeans, and hiking boots?_

My mouth almost touched the ground and I couldn't find any proper thoughts.

"Mister Styles..." I whispered because nothing more came out.

His lips almost formed a smile and his eyes had a strange glimmer to them, an amusing one, like if he wanted to laugh about something that only he knew what.

"I was around..." He started to explain. "I need some things from here. It's a pleasure to see you again, Mister Tomlinson." His seductive voice said, making chills run down my spine.

I shook my head and began thinking of something to say but my heart was practically pounding and, for some reason, I started to blush a lot for feeling his stare on me. 

_I am totally rendered to the vision of the man in front of me. My memories weren't good enough. He's not just attractive, he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen, glamorous even and he's here. Here, in the construction materials store._

When my cognitive functions started to finally work again, I thought of something to say.

"Louis, my name is Louis." I babbled. "What can I do for you, Mister Styles?"

He smiled and once again, he seemed to have a privileged knowledge of some big secret, it was so disconcerting. I took a deep breath and I tried to look more professional, or at least as professional as someone who works there for years could. 

_I can do this._

"There are some things I need. To begin with, I would like to take some cable clamps." He muttered, with a relaxed and fun expression at the same time.

_Cable clamps?_

"We have several lengths. Do you want me to show you?" I asked in a small voice.

"Please, go ahead, Mister Tomlinson..." He answered.

I tried to look relaxed as I stepped out from behind the counter, but in fact, I was completely focused on trying not to trip over my own feet, my legs suddenly getting a jelly-like consistency. 

_I'm grateful that I decided to wear my best jeans this morning. They mark my ass well._

"They are along with the electronic materials, isle 8." My voice sounded a little too excited. I looked at him and I regretted that almost immediately.

"After you..." He muttered, handing out his long fingers.

With my heart beating like crazy, I walked to the corridor until the electrical section. 

 _Why is he in Portland? Why is he at the Quin's?_  

Deep down in my brain, there was an answer. 

 _He is here to see me!_   _Urg, no, let's throw that away. Why would a beautiful, powerful and rich man care about me? That idea is a complete nonsense._

"Are you in Portland for business?" I asked, my voice a little too high for my liking, almost as if I had just slammed the door on my finger. 

_Damn, Louis! You have to control yourself._

"I came to visit the agricultural center of WSU which it's situated in Vancouver. I'm currently founding a research project in the field of crop rotation and pedology." He said.

 _See? Nothing about you._  

I blushed at the thoughts.

"Is it part of the plan of feeding the world?" I joked.

"Something like that." He said and his right dimple appeared on his cheek, in a half-smile. He looked to the cable camps section.  _How does he do that?_   _He doesn't seem like a guy to enjoy bricolage._  His fingers passed through the available packages and, for some reason, I had to look somewhere else. He leaned forward and picked one. "These ones will do the job." He said with the 'I have many secrets' smile.

"Something else?"

"Duct tape."

_Duct tape?_

"Are you building something?" The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. 

_Obviously, he has someone working for him to help him._

"No, not building." He said after gaining an amusement posture and I had the impression that he wanted to laugh at me. 

_Am I comic? Do I look funny?_

"This way..." I muttered, embarrassed. "The duct tape is in the decoration aisle." I looked behind to see if he was following me.

"Have you worked here a long time?" His voice was serious and he looked at me curiously, making me blushed. 

_Why the hell he makes me feel like this? I look like I have fourteen and my hormones are everywhere. Keep your head up, Louis._

"For four years..." I muttered, reaching our destiny. To absolve myself, I reached out and took the two widths of duct tape we had.

"I'll take that one." He said, pointing to the largest tape and I gave it to him.

Our fingers touched ever so lightly and the current came again, which came down inside me as if I had touched an exposed wire. I was practically breathless as I felt it pass down my belly, to some dark and unexplored place in the depths of my belly. Desperate, I tried to keep my balance.

"Something else?" My voice was raspier than before and his eyes opened a little more.

"A little bit of rope, I think." His voice was just like mine, raspier.

"Follow me." I looked down, trying to hide the blush of my cheeks and I started to walk to the new section. "What kind of rope? We have natural and synthetic fiber strings... String... Cable..." I stopped to see his expression, noticing his eyes darker.

"I'll take five meters of natural fiber strings, please." Quickly, with trembling fingers, I measured five feet with the fixed ruler, aware that warm eyes were on top of me but I did not dare look at him.  _Can I get more embarrassed than this?_  I took my pocket knife out of my jeans, cutting the rope to curl it and then knotting it. Miraculously, I managed not to cut myself considering how much I was shaking. "Ever been a scout?" He asked, with an amused smile on his lips. 

_Don't look at his lips!_

"Organized group activities are not my thing, Mister Styles..."

He rose an eyebrow.

"What is your thing, Louis?" He asked with a soft voice, the secret smile again on his lips.

I kept looking at him, not knowing what to say and I felt like I was between tectonic plates. 

_Try to keep your cool, Lou._

"Books..." I whispered but the back of my head kept screaming  _'You! You are my thing!'_ but I threw that away immediately, really embarrassed for going so high. 

"What type of books?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

_Why is he so interested?_

"You know, the usual. Classics. English literature mainly." I answered and he began to scratch his chin with his long forefinger and thumb, maturing at my answer. Or maybe he was just too upset and trying to hide it. "Is there anything more that you want?" 

_I need to get away from that subject, those fingers are very flashy._

"I don't know. What do you recommend?"

 _What do I recommend?_   _I don't even know what he's doing._

"To bricolage?" I wondered and he nodded, a malice glare in his eyes. I blushed and my eyes went down to his tight jeans. "Coverall..." I answered, not having control of my words as always and he just rose his eyebrow, amused. "You don't want to ruin your clothes..." I pointed to his jeans.

"I can take them off." He smirked.

"Right." I felt my face burn even more.

"I'll take the coverall anyway. I don't want to ruin my clothes." He said dryly and I made my best to throw the image of him without pants away from my thoughts when we started to walk again.

"Something else?" I groaned, handing him a blue jean overall and he just ignored my question.

"How's the article?"

_Finally, an easy question and we can get out of the confusion of insinuations and the second senses. A question that I can answer._

"I'm not writing it, Liam is. Mister Payne. He lives with me. He's really happy with the article. He's the editor of the journal and he was a little upset that he couldn't do the interview himself." I felt a relief because I could breathe again.  _Finally a normal conversation topic._  "His only concern is not having original pictures of you."

"What kind of pictures does he wants?"  _Okay, I didn't expect that._  I shook my head, not having a clue about the answer. "Well, I'm around. Tomorrow, maybe..."

"Are you available for a photoshoot?" My voice rose again.  _Liam would die and come back to life if I could set this up._   _And I can see him again tomorrow if he accepts._ "Liam would be so thankful for that!" I felt so happy that I gave him a big smile. His lips parted like he was taking deep breaths and he blinked. For a fraction of a second, he seemed to have lost his gaze and the earth wavered slightly on its axis, and the tectonic plates assumed a new position. 

_Oh my god. Harry Styles with a lost glance._

"Tell me something tomorrow..." He reached the back of his jeans with his free hand, grabbing his wallet. He took a card from there, holding it out to me. "Here's my card. It has my phone number. Call me before 10 am."

"Okay!" I nodded with a big smile. 

_Liam is going to be so happy._

"Lou!"

Mister Quin's younger brother, Tyler, called from the other side of the corridor. I heard he got back from Princeton, but I wasn't expecting him that day.

"Ahm... Excuse me for a second, Mister Styles." He made a displeased look at me as I walked away.

Tyler is a great friend and since I was having a weird moment with the rich, powerful, really attractive and control freak like Harry Styles, it would be great to talk with someone normal. 

Tyler hugged me tightly, what left me a little surprise.

"Lou, hello, it's so good to see you!" He complimented me. 

"Hello Tyler, how are you? Did you come to your brother's birthday?" I asked.

"Yes. You're looking good, Louis. Really good."

He smiled and he pushed me to examine me. After, he passed an arm on my shoulders and I moved the weight of my body from one leg to another, embarrassed. I was enjoying seeing Tyler again but he liked to be intimate with everyone.

When I looked at Styles, he was watching us like a hawk, his eyes half-closed, his mouth hard and impassive. He quickly went from a caring person to someone cold and distant.

"Tyler, I'm with a client right now. Someone you have to meet..." I said, trying to make things better about Styles' expression. I dragged Tyler in his direction and both measured each other with the eyes, the atmosphere suddenly becoming icy. "Ahm... Tyler, this is Harry Styles. Mister Styles, this is Tyler Quin. The owner's brother." For some reason, I felt like I had to give more explanations. "I know Tyler since I started to work here, even if we don't see each other too much. He arrived from Princeton, where he is studying administration..." 

_I'm rambling, great._

"Mister Quin." Styles gave a curt nod, holding out his hand with an indecipherable glare.

"Mister Styles." Tyler mimicked shaking their hands. "Wait... Are you Harry Styles? From Styles' Enterprises Holdings?" Tyler went from angry to reverent in less than a second. Styles smiled polite, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Wow, is there something we can do for you?"

"Louis got me everything I needed, Mister Quin. He's being really attentive." His expression was impassive but his words were like he was saying something different. 

_It is disconcerting._

"Cool." Tyler answered. "See you later, Lou"

"Yes, Tyler..." I nodded, seeing him walk away to the storage of the shop and I turned to Styles. "You need something else, Mister Styles?"

"Just this." He said with a soft voice.

 _Did I offend him?_  

I took a deep breath and turned my back to him, walking to the cash register. 

 _What is his problem?_  

I registered the rope, the coverall, the duct tape and the cable camps.

"It's forty-three dollars, please." I looked at him and I wished I didn't. He was looking attentively at me, very intensely, it was unnerving. "Do you want a bag?" I asked, grabbing his credit card.

"Yes, please, Louis." My heart started to beat really fast as soon as my name left his mouth. I couldn't breathe as I put all the things in a bag. "Call me if you want to do that photoshoot?"  _Back to the businessman._ I nodded, incapable of finding words and I handed him his credit card again. "I'll see you tomorrow, maybe." He was about to leave but stopped. "Oh, Louis. I'm kinda happy Mister Payne couldn't go to the interview."

He smiled and left, throwing the bag over his shoulder and leaving me on a pile of furious hormones. I glanced at the door for a couple of minutes before coming back to the earth planet.

_Okay, I like him. There, I admitted it. I can't keep hiding this. I've never felt like this. I think he is really, really attractive. Never happening though and I know it, that makes me feel a little upset. He was here only for coincidence. But doesn't mean I can't see him from afar, certainly there is nothing wrong with that. And if I find a photographer, in the next day I can spend a long time admiring him. I bit my lip in anticipation and found myself smiling like a teenager. I need to call Liam and start to organize the photoshoot._

**-x-**

***** **Tess of the d'Urbervilles (1891) by Thomas Hardy.**


	3. Chapter 3

Liam was ecstatic.

 **"But what was he doing at Quin's?"**  His curiosity oozed through the phone.

I was in the depths of the stockroom, trying to keep my voice casual.

"He was in the area."

 **"I think that is one huge coincidence, Lou. You don't think he was there to see you?"**  My heart lurched at the thought, but it was a short-lived joy. The dull, disappointing reality was that he was here on business.

"He was visiting the farming division of WSU. He's funding some research." I muttered.

**"Oh yes. He's given the department a $2.5 million grant."**

_Wow._

"How do you know this?"

**"Lou, I'm a journalist, and I've written a profile on the guy. It's my job to know this."**

"Okay, Carl Bernstein*, keep your hair on. So do you want those photos?"

**"Of course I do. The question is, who's going to do them and where."**

"We could ask him where. He says he's staying in the area."

**"You can contact him?"**

"I have his cell phone number." Liam gasped as I finished the sentence.

**"The richest, most elusive, most enigmatic bachelor in Washington State just gave you his cell phone number?"**

"Er... Yes."

 **"Lou! He likes you. No doubt about it."**  His tone was emphatic.

"Li, he's just trying to be nice." But even as I said the words, I knew they weren't true. Harry Styles doesn't do nice, he does polite, maybe.  _Perhaps Liam is right._ My scalp prickled at the idea that maybe, just maybe, he probably liked me. 

 _After all, he did say he was glad Liam didn't do the interview._  

I hugged myself with a quiet glee, rocking from side to side, entertaining myself with the possibility that he probably liked me, but my glee was cut short when Liam brought me to reality.  

**"I don't know who we'll get to do the shoot. Levi, our regular photographer, can't since he's home at Idaho Falls for the weekend. He'll be pissed that he blew the opportunity to photograph one of American's leading entrepreneurs."**

"Hmm... What about Niall?"

**"Great idea! You ask him, he'll do anything for you. Then call Styles and find out where he wants us."**

"I think you should call him."

**"Who, Niall?"**

"No, Styles"

**"Lou, you are the one with the relationship."**

"Relationship?" I squeaked, my voice rising several octaves higher. "I barely know the guy."

 **"At least you've met him."**  He said bitterly.  **"And it looks like he wants to know you better, Lou, just call him."**  He snapped and hung up, making me frown at my cell and stick my tongue out at it.

_He is so bossy sometimes._

I was just leaving a message for Niall when Tyler entered the stockroom, looking for sandpaper. 

"We are kind of busy out there, Lou." He said without any acrimony in his voice.

"Yeah, um, sorry..." I muttered, turning to leave.

"So, how come you know Harry Styles?" Tyler's voice was unconvincingly nonchalant. 

"I had to interview him for our student newspaper. Liam wasn't feeling well." I shrugged, trying to sound casual and doing no better than him. 

"Harry Styles at the Quin's. Go figure." Tyler snorted, amazed. He shook his head as if it was to clear it. "Anyway, want to grab a drink or something this evening?"

_Whenever he's home he asks me on dates, but I always say no. It's a ritual. I've never considered it a good idea to date the boss's brother, and besides, Tyler is cute in a wholesome all-American boy-next-door kind of way, but he's no literally hero, not by any stretch of the imagination. Is Styles like that?_

"Don't you have a family dinner or something for your brother?"

"That's tomorrow"

"Maybe some other time, Tyler. I need to study tonight. I have my finals next week."

"Lou, one of these days you'll say yes." He smiled as I left the storage room.

**ººº**

**"I take pictures of places, Lou, not people."**  Niall groaned. 

"Niall, please?" I begged, pacing the living room of our apartment, as I clutched my cell and stared out the window at the fading evening night.

"Give me your phone." Liam grabbed the handset from me, combing his fingers through it. "Listen here, Horan, if you want our newspaper to cover the opening of your show, you'll do this for us tomorrow, capiche?"  _Liam can also be awesomely tough at times._  "Good, Lou will call back with the location and the time. We'll see you tomorrow." He snapped my cell phone off. "Sorted. All we need to do now is decide where and when. Call him." He held the phone out to me and my stomach twisted. "Call Styles, now!"

I scowled at him and I reached into my back pocket for his business card. I took a deep, steadying breath and with shaking hands, I dialed the number. He answered on the second ring with a clipped, calm and cold tone.

**"Styles."**

"Er... Mister Styles? It's Louis Tomlinson." As I spoke I couldn't even recognize my own voice from being nervous _._  There was a brief pause making me feel even more anxious.

 **"Mister Tomlinson. How nice to hear from you."**  His voice changed to a surprised tone.  _I think._  And he sounded so warm, seductive even. My breath hitched and I flushed, suddenly conscious that Liam Payne was staring at me, his mouth open and I darted into the kitchen to avoid his unwanted scrutiny.

"Um... We'd like to go ahead with the photoshoot for the article."  _Breathe, Louis, breathe._ "Tomorrow, if that's alright with you? Where would be convenient for you, sir?" I could almost hear his sphinx-like smile through the phone.

**"I'm staying at the Heathmanin Portland. Shall we say nine thirty tomorrow morning?"**

"Okay, we'll see you there." I felt myself flush and get all gushy almost like a child, not what you would expect from a grown man who can vote and drink legally in the state of Washington.

 **"I'm looking forward to it, Mister Tomlinson."**  I visualized the wicked gleam in his eyes. 

_How can he make seven little words hold so much tentalizing promise?_

I hung up as Liam came into the kitchen and he started to stare at me with a look of complete and utter consternation on his face. 

"Louis William Tomlinson. You like him! I've never seen or heard you so... so... affected by anyone before. You're actually blushing!"

"Oh, Li, you know I blush all the time. It's an occupational hazard with me. Don't be ridiculous." I snapped and he blinked at me with surprise. "I just find him intimidating. That's all."

"Heathman, I'd figure." Liam muttered. "I'll give the manager a call and negotiate a space for the shoot."

"I'll make supper and then I need to go study." I couldn't hide my irritation with him as I opened one of the cupboards to make supper.

**ººº**

I couldn't sleep that night. Tossing and turning, dreaming about those intense green eyes, coveralls, long legs, long fingers, and dark, dark unexplored places. I woke up twice in the night with my heart pounding. 

_Oh, I'm going to look just great tomorrow with bags under my eyes._

I punched my pillow, trying to settle myself. 

**ººº**

The Heathman hotel is nestled in the heart of downtown Portland. It's an impressive brownstone building, completed just in time for the crash of the late 1920s. 

Niall, Travis and I decided to carpool in my Beetle and Liam took his CLK, since we wouldn't be able to all fit in my car. Travis is Niall's friend and gopher, he joined us to help out with the lighting. Liam managed to acquire the use of a room at the hotel free of charge for the morning in exchange for a credit in the article but when he explained at the reception that we were there to photograph Harry Styles, CEO, we were instantly upgraded to a suite. Just a regular-sized suite, however, as apparently Mister Styles was already occupying the largest one in the building. 

An over-keen marketing executive showed us up to the suite, very young and very nervous for some reason. I suspected it was Liam's beauty or the commanding manner disarmed by Harry because he was put in his hands. The rooms elegant, understated and opulently furnished.

I looked at my watch, seeing it was nine and noticing we had half an hour to set everything up and Liam was in full flow, already.

"Niall, I think we'll shoot against that wall, do you agree?" He didn't wait for his reply. "Travis, clear the chairs, Lou, could you ask the housekeeping to bring up some refreshments? And let Styles know where we are."  _Yes, sir. He is so domineering sometimes._  I rolled my eyes but did what he asked. 

Half an hour later, Harry Styles sauntered into our suite.

_Holy crap!_

He was wearing a white shirt, open at the collar and gray flannel pants that hang from his hips. His unruly hair was still damp from a shower and my mouth went dry just for looking at him.  _He's so freaking hot._ Styles was followed into the suite by a man in his mid-thirties, all buzz cut and stubble in a sharp dark suit and tie who stood silently in the corner, his hazel eyes watching us impassively.

"Mister Tomlinson, we meet again." Styles extended his hand and I shook it, blinking rapidly.  _Oh my..._ As I touched his hand, I was aware of that delicious current running right through me, lighting me up, making me blush and I was sure my erratic breathing was probably audible. 

"Mister Styles, this is Liam Payne." I muttered, waving a hand towards Liam, who came forward, looking him directly in the eye.

"The tenacious Mister Payne. How are you?" He gave him a small smile, looking genuinely amused. "I trust you're feeling better? Louis said you were unwell last week."

"I'm fine, thank you, Mister Styles" He shook his hand firmly without batting an eyelid and I reminded myself that Liam has been to the best private schools in Washington. His family has money and he's grown up confident and sure of his place in the world.  _He doesn't take any crap. I am in awe of him._ "Thank you for taking the time to do this." He gave Harry a polite, professional smile. 

"It's a pleasure." He answered, turning his eyes to me and I flushed again. 

_Damn it._

"This is Niall Horan, our photographer." I said, grinning at Niall who smiled with affection back at me, his eyes cooling when he looked from me to Styles. 

"Mister Styles." He nodded.

"Mister Horan." Styles' expression changed, too, as he appraised Niall. "Where would you like me?" Styles asked him with his tone sounding vaguely threatening, but Liam was not about to let Niall run the show, I was sure of it. 

"Mister Styles, if you could sit here, please? Be careful of the lightning cables. And then we'll do a few standing, too." Liam directed him to a chair set up against the wall. 

Travis switched on the lights, momentarily blinding Styles and muttered an apology. Then Travis and I stood back and watched as Niall proceeded to snap away. He took several photographs, asking Styles to turn this way, then that, to move his arm, then put it down again. Moving to the tripod, Niall took several more, while Styles sat and posed, patiently and naturally, for about twenty minutes. 

 _My wish has come true._   _I can stand and admire Styles from only a few feet away._

Our eyes locked twice and I had to tear myself away from his cloudy gaze.

"Enough sitting." Liam waded in again. "Standing, Mister Styles?" He asked.

He stood up and Travis scurried to remove the chair as the shutter on Niall's Nikon could be heard again. 

"I think we have enough!" Niall announced five minutes later.

"Great!" Liam said. "Thank you again, Mister Styles." He shook his hand, just like Niall.

"I look forward to reading the article, Mister Payne." Styles muttered and he turned to me, standing by the door. "Will you walk with me, Mister Tomlinson?" He asked. 

"Sure..." I said, completely thrown as I glanced anxiously at Liam, who shrugged at me and noticed Niall scowling behind him. 

"Good day to you all." Styles said as he opened the door, standing aside to allow me out first.  _Holy hell... What's this about? What does he want?_ I paused in the hotel corridor, fidgeting nervously as Styles emerged from the room followed by Mister Buzz Cut in his sharp suit. "I'll call you, Dylan." He muttered to Buzz Cut. Dylan wandered back down the corridor and Styles turned his burning green gaze to me.  _Crap... Have I done something wrong?_  "I was wondering if you would join me for coffee this morning." 

My heart leaped into my mouth. 

_A date?  Harry Styles is asking me on a date. He's asking if you want coffee. Maybe he thinks you haven't woken up yet, my subconscious whines at me in a sneering mood again._

I cleared my throat, trying to control my nerves.

"I have to drive everyone home..." I murmured apologetically, twisting my hands and fingers in front of me.

"Dylan." He called, making me jump. Dylan, who had been retreating down the corridor, turned and headed back towards us. "Are they based at the university?" Styles asked, his voice soft and inquiring and I nodded, too stunned to speak. "Dylan can take them. He's my driver. We have a large 4x4 here, so he'll be able to take the equipment too."

"Mister Styles?" Dylan asked when he reached us, giving nothing away. 

"Please, can you drive the photographer, his assistant, and Mister Payne back home?"

"Certainly, sir." Dylan replied.

"There. Now can you join me for coffee?" Styles smiled as if it was a done deal and I frowned. 

"Ahm... Mister Styles, I... This really... Look, Dylan doesn't need to drive them home." I flashed a brief look at Dylan, who remained stoically impassive. "I'll swap vehicles with Liam if you give me a moment."

Styles smiled a dazzling, unguarded, natural, all-teeth-showing, showing his dimples, glorious smile. 

_Oh my..._

He opened the door of the suit so I could go in and I scooted around him to reenter the room, finding Liam in deep discussion with Niall.

"Lou, I think he definitely likes you." He said with no preamble whatsoever and Niall glared at me with a disapproval look. "But I don't trust him." He added. I rose my hand up in the hope that he would stop talking and by some miracle, he did.

"Liam, if you take Wanda, can I take your car?"

"Why?"

"Harry Styles asked me to go for coffee with him..."

His mouth popped open. 

_Speechless Liam! I savor this moment._

He grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into the bedroom that was off the living area of the suite. 

"Lou, there's something about him." His tone was full of warning. "He's gorgeous, I agree, but I think he's dangerous. Especially for someone like you."

"What do you mean, someone like me?" I demanded, affronted.

"An innocent like you, Lou. You know what I mean." He said a little irritated and I flushed.

"Liam, it's just coffee. I'm starting my exams this week and I need to study, so I won't be long." 

He pursed his lips as if considering my request. Finally, he fished his car keys out of his pocket and handed them over to me in exchange for mine.

"I'll see you later. Don't be long, or I'll send out search and rescue."

"Thanks!" I hugged him. 

I emerged from the suite to find Harry Styles waiting, leaning up against the wall, looking like a male model in a pose for some glossy high-end magazine. 

"Okay, let's go get coffee." I muttered, flushing a beet red and he grinned. 

"After you, Mister Tomlinson." He stood up straight, holding his hand out for me to go first. I made my way down the corridor, my knees wobbly, my stomach full of butterflies and my heart practically thumping in my mouth dramatically with an uneven beat. 

_I am going to have coffee with Harry Styles_ _and I hate coffee._

We walked together down the wide hotel corridor to the elevators. 

 _What should I say to him? My mind is paralyzed with apprehension._   _What are we going to talk about? What on Earth do I have in common with him?_

"How long have you known Liam Payne?" His soft, warm voice startled me from my reverie.

_Oh, an easy question for starters._

"Since our freshman year, he's a great friend."

"Hmm." He replied noncommittally. 

_What is he thinking?_

At the elevators, he pressed the call button and the bell rang almost immediately. The doors slid open, revealing a young couple in a passionate embrace inside. Surprised and embarrassed, they jumped apart, staring guiltily in every direction but ours. Styles and I stepped into the elevator. 

I struggled to maintain a straight face, so I gazed down at the floor, feeling my cheeks heat up. When I peeked up at Styles through my lashes, he had a hint of a smile on his lips, but it was very hard to tell. The young couple said nothing and we traveled down to the first floor in an embarrassed silence. Suddenly, I wished there was bland piped elevator music to distract us.

The doors opened and, much to my surprise, Styles took my hand, clasping it with his long, cold fingers. I felt the current run through me and my, already rapid, heartbeat accelerated. As he led me out of the elevator, we could hear the suppressed giggles of the couple erupting behind us making Styles grin.

"What is it about elevators?" He muttered.

We crossed the expansive, bustling lobby of the hotel toward the entrance but Styles avoided the revolving door and I wondered if that was because he would have to let go of my hand. 

Outside, we found a mild May Sunday, the sun shining and the traffic light. 

Styles turned left and strolled to the corner, where we waited for the crosswalk to change while he was still holding my hand.

_I'm on the street and Harry Styles is holding my hand. No one ever held my hand before. Try to be cool, Lou._

I felt giddy, and I tingled all over. I attempted to smother the ridiculous grin that threatened to split my face in two. 

The green man appeared and we were off again. We walked four blocks before we reached the Portland Coffee House, where Styles released me to hold the door open so I could step inside.

"Why don't you choose a table while I get the drinks? What would you like?" He asked, polite as ever.

"I'll have... Uhm... English Breakfast tea, bag out." I asked and he rose his eyebrows.

"No coffee?"

"I'm not keen on coffee." I explained and he smiled, nodding.

"Okay, bag out tea. Sugar?" He asked and, for a moment, I was stunned, thinking it was an endearment, but fortunately my subconscious kicked in with pursed lips. 

_No, stupid; do you take sugar?_

"No, thanks..." I stared down at my knotted fingers.

"Anything to eat?"

"No, thank you..." I shook my head and he headed to the counter as I sat on a table.

I surreptitiously gazed at him from beneath my lashes as he stood in line waiting to be served. 

_I could watch him all day... he's tall, broad-shouldered and the way those pants hang from his hips... Oh my._

Once or twice he ran his long, graceful fingers through his dry-nut still disorderly hair. 

_Hmm... I'd like to do that._

The thought came unbidden to my mind and my face flamed. I bit my lip and stared down at my hands again, not liking where my wayward thoughts were heading.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Styles reached the table, starling me and I turned crimson. 

_I was just thinking about running my fingers through your hair and wondering if it would feel soft to touch._

I shook my head seeing he was carrying a tray which he set down on the small round birch-veneer table. He handed me a cup and saucer, a small teapot and a side plate bearing a lone teabag labeled Twinings English Breakfast,my favorite. He had a coffee that was bearing a wonderful leaf pattern imprinted in the milk.  _How do they do that?_ He also bought himself a blueberry muffin. Putting the tray aside, he sat opposite to me and crossed his long legs. 

_He looks so comfortable, so at ease with his body, I envy him. Here's me, all gawky and uncoordinated, barely able to get from A to point B without falling flat on my face._

"Your thoughts?" He prompted me. 

"This is my favorite tea." My voice was quiet and breathy. I simply couldn't believe I was sitting opposite to Harry Styles in a coffee shop in Portland, being slowly seduced. He frowned, knowing I was hiding something and I just popped the teabag into the teapot, almost immediately fishing it out again with my teaspoon. As I placed the used teabag back on the side plate, he tilted his head to the side, gazing quizzically at me. "I like my tea black and weak..." I muttered as an explanation. 

"I see. Is he your boyfriend?" 

_Wow, what now?_

"Who?" 

"The photographer, Niall Horan." He added and I  laughed, nervous but curious. 

_What gave him that impression?_

"No. Niall's a good friend of mine, that's all. Why did you think he was my boyfriend?" 

"The way you smiled at him and he at you." His gaze held mine and I wanted to look away but I was caught.

_He's so unnerving._

"He's more like family..." I whispered. Styles nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response and glanced down at his blueberry muffin. His long fingers deftly peeled back the paper and I watched, fascinated. 

"Do you want some?" He asked and that amused, secret smile was back.

"No, thanks." I frowned and stared down at my hands again. 

"And the boy I met yesterday, at the store. He's not your boyfriend?"

"No. Tyler's just a friend. I told you yesterday."  _This is getting silly._ "Why do you ask?" 

"You seem nervous around men."

_Holy crap, that's personal._

_I'm just nervous around you, Styles._

"I find you intimidating." I flushed scarlet, but mentally pat myself on the back for my candor, and gazed at my hands again as I heard his sharp intake of breath. 

"You should find me intimidating." He nodded. "You're very honest. Please don't look down, I like to see your face." I glanced at him and he gave me an encouraging but wry smile. "It gives me some sort of clue what you might be thinking." He breathed. "You're a mystery, Mister Tomlinson."

_Mysterious? Me?_

"There's nothing mysterious about me." 

"I think you're very self-contained..." He muttered.  _Am I? Wow. How am I managing that? This is bewildering. Me, self-contained? No way._ "Except when you blush, of course, which is often. I just wish I knew what you were blushing about." He popped a small piece of muffin into his mouth and started to chew it slowly, not taking his eyes off me and as if on cue, I blushed. 

_Crap!_

"Do you always make such personal observations?"

"I hadn't realized I was. Have I offended you?" He sounded surprised.

"No..." I answered truthfully. 

"Good."

"But you're very high-handed..." I explained and he rose his eyebrow like if I was not mistaken, flushing slightly too.

"I'm used to getting my own way, Louis." He muttered. "In all things."

"I don't doubt it. Why haven't you asked me to call you by your first name?" I was surprised by my audacity. 

_Why has this conversation become so serious? This isn't going the way I thought it was going to go. I can't believe I'm feeling so antagonistic towards him. It's like he's trying to warn me off._

"The only people who use my given name are my family and a few friends. That's the way I like it."  _Oh, no 'Call me Harry' yet. He's a control freak, there's no other explanation and part of me is thinking maybe it would have been better if Liam had interviewed him. Two control freaks together. Plus, of course, Liam's hair is lighter than mine. And he's beautiful. I don't like the idea of Harry and Liam tho._  I took a sip of my tea and Styles ate another small piece of his muffin. "Are you an only child?" He asked.

_Wow, he keeps changing direction._

"Yes..." He seemed surprised but didn't say anything. 

"Tell me about your parents." 

"My mum, Jay, lives in Georgia with her new husband, Dan. My stepdad, Mark, lives in Montesano."

"And your father?"

"My father died when I was a baby." 

"I'm sorry." He muttered and a fleeting, troubled look crossed his face.

"I don't remember him."

"And your mother remarried?" 

"You could say that." He frowned at me.

"You're not giving much away, are you?" He said dryly, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought.

"Neither are you."

"You've interviewed me once already and I can recollect some quite probing questions then." He smirked at me. 

_Holy shit. He's remembering the 'gay' question. Once again, I'm mortified. In years to come, I know I'll need intensive therapy to not feel this embarrassed every time I recall the moment._

I started babbling about my mother, anything to block that memory. 

"My mum is wonderful, she's an incurable romantic. She's currently on her third husband." Harry rose his eyebrow in surprise. "I miss her." I continued. "She has Dan now. I just hope he can keep an eye on her and pick up the pieces when her harebrained schemes don't go as planned." I smiled fondly. 

_I haven't seen my mum for so long._

Harry was watching me intently, taking occasional sips of his coffee and I really shouldn't look at his mouth.

"Do you get along with your stepfather?"

"Of course, I grew up with him. He's the only father I know."

"And what's he like?"

"Mark? He's... taciturn."

"That's it?" Harry asked, surprised and I shrugged. "Taciturn like his stepson." Styles prompted and I refrained from rolling my eyes at him.

"He likes soccer, European soccer, and bowling, and fly-fishing, and making furniture. He's a carpenter. Ex-army." I sighed.

"You lived with him?"

"Yes, my mum met Husband Number Three when I was fifteen so I stayed with Mark." He frowned as if he didn't understand. 

"You didn't want to live with your mum?" He asked. 

_This is literally none of his business._

"Husband Number Three lived in Texas and my mum was in Montesano. And... you know, my mum was newly married..." I stopped because my mum never speaks about Husband Number Three.  _Where is Styles going with this? This is none of his business but two can play at this game._ "Tell me about your parents." I dared and he shrugged.

"My dad's a lawyer, my mum is a pediatrician and they live in Seattle." 

_Oh. He had an affluent upbringing. And I wonder about a successful couple who adopts three kids and one of them turns into a beautiful man who takes on the business world and conquers it single-handed. What drove him to be that way? His folks must be proud._

"What about your siblings?"

"Zayn's in construction and my little sister is in Paris, studying cuisine under some renowned French chef." His eyes clouded with irritation. 

_He doesn't want to talk about his family or himself._

"I heard that Paris is lovely..." I muttered. 

_Why doesn't he want to talk about his family? Is it because he's adopted?_

"It's beautiful, you have never been there?" He asked, his irritation forgotten.

"I've never left mainland USA." 

_So, now we are back to banalities. What is he hiding?_

"Would you like to go?"

"To Paris?" I squeaked.  _This has thrown me;_   _who wouldn't want to go to Paris?_ "Of course." I conceded. "But it's England that I'd really like to visit." He titled his head to the side, running his index finger across his lower lip. 

"Because?" 

_Concentrate, Tomlinson._

"It's the home of Shakespeare, Austen, the Brontë sisters, Thomas Hardy. I'd like to see the places that inspired those people to write such wonderful books." All the talk of literary greats reminded me that I should be studying and I glanced at my watch. "I'd better go. I have to study."

"For your exams?"

"Yes, they start Tuesday."

"Where's Mister Payne's car?"

"In the hotel parking lot."

"I'll walk you back."

"Thank you for the tea, Mister Styles." He gave me his odd I've-got-a-whopping-big-secret smile. 

"You're welcome, Louis. It's my pleasure. Come." He commanded and held his hand out to me. I took it, bemused and I followed him out of the coffee shop. We strolled back to the hotel and I'd like to say it was in companionable silence. He at least looked his usual calm, collected self. As for me, I was desperately trying to gauge how our little coffee morning was gone. 

_I feel like I've been interviewed but I'm not sure what for._

"Do you always wear tight jeans?" He asked out of the blue. 

"Mostly." I murmured and he nodded. We got back at the intersection, across the road from the hotel but my mind was reeling.  _What an odd question and I'm aware that our time together is limited. This is it. This was it and I have completely blown it, I know._   _Perhaps he has someone._ "Do you have aboyfriend?" I blurted out. 

_Holy crap. Did I just say it out loud?_

"No, Louis. I don't do the boyfriend thing."

For a moment I thought he was going to follow up with some explanations, some clue to this cryptic statement but he didn't.

 _I have to go_.  _I have to try to reassemble my thoughts._

I had to get away from him so I walked forward and I tripped, stumbling headlong onto the road.

"Oh!"

"Shit, Lou!" Styles cried, tugging the hand that was holding mine so hard that I fell back against him just as a cyclist whipped past, narrowly missing me, heading the wrong way up this one-way street. 

"What-" It all happened so fast, one minute I was falling, the next I was in his arms and he was holding me tightly against his chest. I inhaled his clean, wholesome scent and noticed he smelled of freshly laundered linen and some expensive body wash. It was intoxicating so I inhaled deeply.

"Are you okay?" He whispered, with one arm around me, clasping me to him, while the fingers of his other hand softly traced my face, gently probing, examining me. His thumb brushed my lower lip and his breath hitched, as he kept staring into my eyes and I held his anxious, burning gaze for a moment.  _Or maybe it's forever._  But eventually, my attention was drawn to his beautiful mouth and, for the first time in twenty-one years, I wanted to be kissed. 

_I want to feel his mouth on mine._


	4. Chapter 4

_Kiss me, damn it!_

I implored him, but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed with a strange, unfamiliar need, completely captivated by him. I stared at Styles' mouth, mesmerized and I noticed him looking down at me, his gaze hooded, his eyes darkening. He started breathing harder than usual and all of a sudden I was the one at a loss of breath.

 _I'm in your arms._   _Kiss me, you fool._

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and gave a small shake of his head as if an answer to my silent question. When he opened his eyes again, it was with some new purpose, a steely resolve.

"Louis, you should steer clear of me. I'm not the man for you." He whispered.  _What? Where is this coming from? Surely I should be the judge of that._  I frowned as my head swam with thoughts of rejection. "Breathe, Louis, breathe. I'm going to stand you up and let you go." He said quietly and he gently pushed me away.

Adrenaline spiked through my body from the near miss with the cyclist or the heady proximity to Harry, leaving me wired, and weak. With his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm's length, he carefully watched my reactions. The only thing my brain could process at the precise moment was that I wanted him to kiss me.

 _I had made it pretty damn obvious and he didn't do it. He doesn't want me. He really doesn't want me._   _I have royally screwed up the coffee morning._

"I've got this." I breathed, finding my voice. "Thank you." I muttered, washed with humiliation.

_How could I have misread the situation between us so utterly? I need to get away from him._

"For what?" He frowned, not taking his hands off me.

"For saving me..." I whispered.

"That idiot was riding the wrong way. I'm glad I was here, I shudder at the thought of what could have happened to you. Do you want to come and sit down in the hotel for a moment?" He released me, his hands by his sides and I stood in front of him, feeling like a fool. With a shake, I cleared my head.

 _I just want to go._   _All my vague, unarticulated hopes have been dashed. He doesn't want me. What was I thinking? What would Harry Styles want with me?_

I scolded myself, wrapping my arms around myself and turned to face the road and noted with relief that the green man appeared. I quickly made my way across, conscious that Styles was behind me.

Outside the hotel, I briefly turned to face him but didn't dare look him in the eye.

"Thanks for the tea and doing the photoshoot..." I muttered.

"Louis... I..." He stopped and the anguish in his voice demanded my attention so I peered unwillingly up at him. His green eyes were bleak as he ran his hands through his hair, looking torn, frustrated, his expression stark, like all his careful demeanor had evaporated.

"What, Harry?" I snapped irritably after he said nothing.

_I just want to go. I need to take my fragile, wounded pride away and somehow find a way to nurse it back to health._

"Good luck with your exams." He muttered.

_This is why he looks so grim? This is the big sendoff? Just to wish me luck on my exams?_

"Thanks." I couldn't disguise the sarcasm in my voice. "Goodbye, Mister Styles." I turned, vaguely amazed that I didn't trip and slash or without giving him a second glance as I disappeared down the sidewalk toward the underground garage.

Once underneath the dark, cold concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I leaned against the wall and put my head in my hands.

_What was I thinking?_

Unbidden and unwelcome tears pooled in my eyes.

_Why am I crying?_

I sank to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. Drawing up my knees, I folded in on myself,wanting to make myself as small as possible. Perhaps the nonsensical pain would be smaller the smaller I managed to make myself. Placing my head on my knees, I let the irrational tears fall unrestrained.

_Crying over the loss of something I never had. How ridiculous. Mourning something that never was, my dashed hopes, my dashed dreams, and my soured expectations._

_I have never been on the receiving end of a rejection. Okay... I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball, but I understood that because running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball wasn't and still isn't my thing. I am a serious liability in any sporting field._

_Romantically, though, I've never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity, I'm too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would-be slash could-be admirers. There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest, no one except Harry Freaking Styles._

_Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Tyler Quin and Niall Horan, though I'm sure neither of them has been found sobbing alone in dark places. Perhaps I just need a good cry._

I took a deep, steadying breath and I stood up.

_Get it together, Tomlinson._

I headed for Liam's car, wiping the tears from my face as I did.

 _I will not think of him again._   _I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams._

**ººº**

Liam was sitting at the dining table with his laptop when I arrived and his welcoming smile faded when he saw me.

"Lou, what's wrong?"  _Not the Liam Payne Inquisition, please._ I shook my head in a back-off-now-Liam but I probably was as well be dealing with a blind, deaf-mute. "You've been crying." He had an exceptional gift for stating the damn obvious sometimes. "What did that bastard do to you?" He growled.

"Nothing, Liam."  _And that's actually the problem._

"Then why have you been crying? You never cry." He said, his voice softening as he stood with his brown eyes brimming with concern. He put his arms around me and hugged me.

"I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist..." It was the best that I could do but it distracted him momentarily from Harry.

"Jeez, Lou! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He held me at arm's length and did a quick visual checkup on me.

"No. Harry saved me." I whispered. "But I was shaken."

"I'm not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee."

"I had tea. I was fine, nothing to report really. I don't know why he asked me."

"He liked you, Lou." He dropped his arms.

"Not anymore, I won't be seeing him again." I was grateful that I managed to sound matter-of-fact.

"Oh?" He sat again and I headed into the kitchen so that he couldn't see my face.

"Yes, he's a little out of my league, Liam." I said as dryly as I could manage.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, Liam, it's obvious!" I whirled around and faced him as he stood in the kitchen doorway.

"Not to me." He said. "Okay, he's got more money than you but then he has more money than most people in America!"

"Liam he's..." I shrugged.

"Lou! For heaven's sake, how many times do I have to tell you? You're a total babe." He interrupted me.

"Liam, please. I need to study..." I cut him short and he frowned.

"Do you want to see the article? It's finished. Niall took some great pictures."

_Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Harry I-Don't-Want-You Styles?_

"Sure..." I forced a smile and strolled over to the laptop.

_There he is, staring at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me lacking._

I pretended to read the article, all the time meeting his steady green gaze, searching the photo for some clue as to why he was not the man for me, remembering his own words to me and it was suddenly blindingly obvious.

_He's too gloriously good-looking._

_We are poles apart and from two very different worlds. I have a vision of myself as flying too close to the sun and crashing and burning as a result. His words make sense. He's not the man for me. This is what he meant and it makes his rejection easier to accept at least almost. I can live with that, I understand._

"What do you think?" Liam finally asked after a few minutes.

"Very good, Liam." I managed to say. "I'm going to study."

 _I am not going to think about him again for now on,_  I vowed to myself while opening my course notes and I started to read.

**ººº**

It was only when I was in bed, trying to sleep, that I allowed my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I kept coming back to the  **'I don't do the boyfriend thing'**  quote and I was angry that I didn't pounce on that information sooner before I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me.

_He said it there and then. He doesn't want me as a boyfriend._

I turned onto my side, wondering if perhaps he was calibrated and I closed my eyes as I began to drift.

_Maybe he's saving himself._

That night, I dreamed about green eyes and leafy patterns in milk as I was running through dark places with eerie strip lighting.

_I don't know if I'm running towards something or away from it, it's just not clear._

**ººº**

I looked at the clock seeing that I finished my exam before that I expected so I looked at the pencil in my hand with  **Styles** on it before putting it down.

_Finished. My final exam is over._

I smiled and it was probably the first time all week that I've smiled. It was Friday and we were going to celebrate that night, really celebrate.

_I might even get drunk! I've never been drunk before._

I glanced across the hall at Liam and noticed him scribbling furiously, five minutes to the finish.

 _This is it, the end of my academic career._   _I shall never have to sit in rows of anxious, isolated students again._

Inside my head, I was doing graceful cartwheels, knowing well enough that, that was the only place I could do graceful cartwheels.

Liam stopped writing and put his pen down while he glanced across at me and I gave him a smile as well.

**ººº**

We headed back to our apartment together in his Mercedes, refusing to discuss our finals paper. Liam was more concerned about what he was going to wear to the bar during the evening while I was busily finishing around in my bag for my keys.

"Lou, there's a package for you." Liam was standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel.  _Odd, I haven't ordered anything from Amazon recently._  Liam gave me the parcel and took my keys to open the front door.

 _It's addressed to Mister Louis Tomlinson._   _There's no sender's address or name. Perhaps from my mum or Mark._

"It's probably from my folks."

"Open it!" Liam was excited as he headed into the kitchen for our exams-are-finished-hurrah-champagne.

I opened the parcel and inside I found a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered books in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, was:

 **_Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me?_ **  
**_Ladies know what to guard against because they read novels that tell them of these tricks..._ **

I recognized the quote from Tess and I was stunned by the coincidence as I've just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardyin my final examination.  _Perhaps there is no coincidence. Perhaps it's deliberate._  I inspected the books closely, three volumes of  **Tess of the d'Urbervilles** _._ I opened the front cover of one of the books. Written in an old typeface on the front plate I saw it.

London: Jack R. Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., 1891

_Holy shit. They are first editions! They must be worth a fortune! And I know immediately who's sent them._

Liam was at my shoulder gazing at the books and he picked up the card.

"First edition..." I whispered.

"No!" Liam's eyes widened in disbelief. "Styles?" He added and I nodded.

"Can't think of anyone else..."

"What does this card mean?"

"I have no idea. I think it's a warning, honestly. He keeps warning me off and I have no idea why, it's not like I'm beating his door down." I frowned.

"I know you don't want to talk about him, Lou, but he's seriously into you. Warnings or no." I had not let myself dwell on Harry Styles for the past week.  _Okay, so his green eyes are still haunting my dreams and I know it will take an eternity to expunge the feel of his arms around me and his wonderful fragrance from my brain. Why has he sent me this? He told me that I wasn't for him._  "I've found one Tess first edition for sale in New York for fourteen thousand dollars but yours look in much better condition. They must have cost more." Liam started consulting his good friend Google.

"This quote... Tess says it to her mother after Alec d'Urbeville has had his wicked way with her."

"I know... What is he trying to say?"

"I don't know and I don't care! I can't accept these from him! I'll send them back with an equally baffling quote from some obscure part of the book."

"The bit where Angel Clare says fuck off?" Liam asked with a completely straight face.

"Yes, that bit." I giggled. I repacked the books and left them on the dining table. Liam handed me a glass of champagne.

_I love Liam,  he's loyal and supportive._

"To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle." He grinned.

"To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle and excellent results." We clinked glasses and drank.

**ººº**

The bar was loud and hectic, full of soon-to-be graduates out to get trashed. Niall joined us although he wouldn't be graduating for another year but, he said he was in the mood to party and he always got us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for us all.

As I downed my fifth glass, I immediatly knew it wasn't a good idea especially since I had champagne on top of that.

"So what now, Lou?" Niall shouted at me over the noise.

"Liam and I are moving to Seattle! Liam's parents have bought a condo there for him."

"Oh my, how the other half live. But you'll be back for my show?"

"Of course Niall, I would never miss it!" I smiled and he put his arm around my waist to pull me close.

"It means a lot to me that you'll be there, Lou." He whispered in my ear. "Another margarita?"

"Niall James Horan, are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think it's working!" I giggled. "I think I'd better have a beer, I'll go get us a pitcher."

"More drink, Lou!" Liam bellowed.

_Liam has the constitution of an ox._

He had his arm draped over Levi, one of our fellow English peers and his usual photographer on the student newspaper. The photographer gave up taking photos of the drunkenness that surrounded him since he only had eyes for Liam. Anyway, I moved out of Niall's hold and got up from our table.

_Whoa, head spin._

I had to grab the back of the chair.

_Tequila-based cocktails are not a good idea._

I made my way to the bar and decided that I should visit the bathroom while I was on my feet.  _Good thinking, Lou._  I staggered off through the crowd and, of course, there was a line but at least it was quiet and cool in the corridor. I reached for my cell phone to relieve the boredom of waiting.

_Who did I last call? Niall? Before that, a number I don't recognize._

_Oh, Styles. I think this is his number. I have no idea what the time is, maybe I'll wake him. Perhaps he can tell why he sent me those books and the cryptic message. If he wants me to stay away, he should leave me alone._

I suppressed a drunken grin and hit the 'call' button. He answered on the second ring.

 **"Louis?"** He was surprised to hear from me. Well, frankly, I was surprised to be calling him.

_How does he know it's me?_

"Why did you send me the books?" I slurred at him.

 **"Louis, are you okay? You sound strange."**  His voice was filled with concern.

_What? Impossible._

"I'm not the strange one, you are."

**"Louis, have you been drinking?"**

"What's it to you?"

**"I'm... just curious. Where are you?"**

"In a bar."

 **"Which bar?"** He sounded exasperated.

"A bar in Portland."

**"How are you getting home?"**

"I'll find a way." The conversation was not going how I expected.

**"Which bar are you in?"**

"Why did you send me the books, Harry?"

 **"Louis, where are you? Tell me now!"** His tone was so dictatorial, his usual control freak. I imagined him as an old-time movie director wearing jodhpurs, holding an old-fashioned megaphone and a riding crop. The image made me laugh out loud.

"You're so domineering." I giggled.

 **"C'mon Lou, help me here, where the fuck are you?"** _Harry Styles is swearing at me._  I giggled again.

"I'm in Portland. It's a long way from Seattle."

**"Where in Portland?"**

"Good night, Harry!"

**"Lou!"**

I hung up. Although, he didn't tell me about the books and I frowned.

_Mission not accomplished. I am really quite drunk. Well, the object of the exercise was to get drunk. I have succeeded. This is what it's like; probably not an experience to be repeated._

My head swam uncomfortably as I shuffled with the line and soon was my time to enter. I stared blankly at the poster on the back of the toilet door that extolled the virtues of safe sex.

_Holy crap, did I just call Harry Styles?  Shit._

My phone rang, making me jump and yelp in surprise.

"Hi." I bleat timidly into the phone and I hadn't reckoned on it.

 **"I'm coming to get you."** He said and hung up.

_Only Harry Styles could sound so calm and so threatening at the same time._

_Holy crap._

I pulled my jeans up, feeling my heart beating like crazy.

_Coming to get me? Oh no. I'm going to be sick. He's just messing with my head, I didn't tell him where I was. He can't find me here. Besides, it will take him hours to get here from Seattle and we'll be long gone by then._

I washed my hands and checked my face in the mirror, seeing I looked flushed and slightly unfocused. I waited at the bar for what felt like an eternity for the pitcher of beet and eventually returned to the table.

"You've been gone so long." Liam told me. "Where were you?"

"I was in line for the restroom."

Niall and Levi were having some heated debate about our local baseball team but Niall paused in his tirade to pour us all beers and I took a swig.

"Liam, I think I'd better step outside and get some fresh air..."

"Lou, you are such a lightweight!"

"I'll be back in five minutes."

I made my way through the crowd again, having a nauseating feeling stirring inside of me, my head spinning uncomfortably, and I was a little unsteady on my feet.

_More unsteady than usual._

Drinking in the cool evening air in the parking lot made me realize how drunk I was. My vision affected and I was really seeing double of everything.

_I think I'm going to be sick. Why did I let myself get this messed up?_

"Lou!" Niall joined me. "Are you okay?"

"I think I've just had a bit too much to drink..." I smiled weakly at him.

"Me, too..." He muttered, his blue eyes regarding me intently. "Do you need a hand?" He asked and stepped closer, putting his arm around me.

"Niall, I'm okay, I've got this..." I tried to push him away rather feebly.

"Lou, please." He whispered and he started holding me in his arms, pulling me closer.

"Niall, what the hell are you doing?"

"You know I like you, Lou, please." He moved one hand at the small of my back, holding me against him, the other at my chin tipping back my head.

_Holy fuck, he's going to kiss me._

"No, Niall, stop!" I pushed him but he was a wall of muscles and I couldn't shift him. His hand slipped into my hair and he was holding my head in place.

"Please, Lou..." He whispered against my lips, his breath soft, and smelling too sweet, which I recognized for being margarita and beer _._ He gently trailed kisses along my jaw up to the side of my mouth, making me feel panicky, drunk and out of control.

_The feeling is suffocating._

"Niall, no, I don't want this!" I pleaded.

"I believe he already said no." A raspy voice in the dark said quietly and Niall released me.

 _Holy shit! Harry Styles is here. How? Why?_  

"Styles." He said tersely and I glanced anxiously up at Harry. He was glowering at Niall and he was furious.  _Crap._ My stomach heaved and I double over, my body no longer able to tolerate the alcohol, and I vomited spectacularly on to the ground.

"Oh my god, Louis!" Niall jumped back in disgust while Styles grabbed my waist and gently led me over to a raised flower bed on the edge of the parking lot.

"If you're going to throw up again, do it here. I'll hold you." He had one arm around my waist and the other hand on my chest, keeping me steady. I tried awkwardly to push him away but I vomited again and again.

_How long is this going to last?_

Even when my stomach was empty and nothing was coming up, horrible dry heaved rack my body. I vowed silently that I would never ever drink again.

_This is just too appalling for words._

When, finally, it stopped, my hands were resting on the brick wall of the flowerbed, barely holding me up.  _Vomiting profusely is exhausting._ Styles took his hands off me and passed me a handkerchief.

_Only he would have a monogrammed, freshly laundered linen handkerchief._

**HES.** _I didn't know you could still buy these._

Vaguely I wondered what the E stood for as I wiped my mouth.

_I can't bring up by the azaleas in the flowerbed and be anywhere but here._

Niall was still hovering by the entrance to the bar, watching us. I groaned and put my head in my hands.  _This has to be the single worst moment of my life._ My head was still swimming as I tried to remember a worse one and I could only come up with Harry's rejection, and that was so, so many shades darker in terms of humiliation.

I risked a peek at him, seeing he was staring down at me, his face composed, giving nothing away. I turned, looking at Niall, who looked pretty shamefaced himself, and, like me, intimidated by Styles. I glared back at Styles.

_I have a few choice words for my so-called friend, none of which I can repeat in front of Harry Styles, CEO._

_Who are you kidding, Lou? He's just seen you hurl all over the ground and into the local flora. There's no disguising lack of behavior._

"I'll, uhm, see you inside..." Niall muttered but we both ignored him and he slinked off back into the building.

_I'm on my own with Styles. Double crap. What should I say to him? Apologize for the phone call._

"I'm sorry..." I muttered, staring at the handkerchief, which I was furiously twiddling with my fingers, feeling the soft material.

"What are you sorry for, Louis?"

_Damn it, he wants his damned pound of flesh._

"The phone call, mainly. Being sick. Oh, the list is endless..." I muttered, feeling my skin coloring up.

_Please, please, can I die now?_

"We've all been there, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you." He said dryly. "It's about knowing your limits, Louis. I mean, I'm all for pushing limits, but really this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?"

My head buzzed with excess alcohol and irritation.

_What the hell has it got to do with him? I didn't invite him here. He sounds like a middle-aged man scolding me like an errant child._

Part of me wanted to say that if I wanted to get drunk every night like that, then it was my decision and nothing to do with him, but I was not brave enough. Not when I've thrown up in front of him.

_Why is he still standing there?_

"No." I said contritely. "I've never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again."

_I just don't understand why he's here._

I began to feel faint. He noticed my dizziness and grabbed me before I got the chance to fall, hoisting me into his arms and holding me close to his chest like a child.

"Come on, I'll take you home..." He murmured.

"I need to tell Liam..."

_I'm in his arms again._

"My brother can tell him."

"What?"

"My brother Zayn is talking to Mister Payne."

"Oh?"

_I don't understand._

"He was with me when you called."

"In Seattle?"

"No, I'm still at the Heathman."

_Still? Why?_

"How did you find me?"

"I tracked your cell phone, Louis."  _Of course, he did. How is that possible? Is it legal?_   _Stalker, my subconscious whispered to me through the cloud of tequila that's still floating in my brain but, somehow, because it's him, I don't mind._  "Do you have any jacket?"

"Uhm... yes, I came with both. Harry, please, I need to tell Liam. He'll worry." His mouth pressed into a hard line but he sighed heavily.

"If you must."

He set me down and took my hand, leading me back to the bar. I felt weak, still drunk, embarrassed, exhausted, mortified, and, on some strange level, absolutely off-the-charts thrilled. He was clutching my hand, such a confusing array of emotions and I would need at least a week to process them all.

It was noisy, crowded and the music started so there was a large crowd on the dance floor but Liam was not at our table and Niall disappeared. Levi looked lost and forlorn on his own.

"Where's Liam?" I shouted at Levi above the noise and I felt my head beginning to pound in time to the thumping bass line of the music.

"Dancing." Levi shouted and I could tell he was mad. He was eyeing Harry suspiciously and I struggled into my black jacket.

_I'm ready to go, once I see Liam._

I touched Harry's arm and leaned up to shout in his ear.

"He's on the dance floor." Brushing his hair with my nose, smelling his clean, fresh smell, all those forbidden, unfamiliar feelings that I tried to deny surfaced and ran amok through my drained body. I flushed and somewhere deep, deep down my muscles clenched deliciously.

He rolled his eyes at me and took my hand again, leading me to the bar. He was served immediately, no waiting for Mister Control Freak Styles.  _Does everything come so easily to him?_ I couldn't hear what he ordered but he handed me a very large glass of iced water.

"Drink!" He shouted his order at me. The moving lights were twisting and turning in time to the music, casting strange colored light and shadows all over the bar and the clientele. He was alternately green, blue, white, and a demonic red, watching me intently as I took a tentative sip. "All of it." He shouted.

_He's so overbearing._

He ran his hand through his unruly hair, looking frustrated and angry.  _What is his problem? Apart from a silly drunk boy calling him in the middle of the night so he thinks he needs rescuing._  I swayed a little and he put his hand on my shoulder to steady me. I did as I was told and drank the entire glass, making me feel queasy. Taking the glass from me, he placed it on the bar and I noticed through a blur what he was wearing, a loose white linen shirt, snug jeans, black boots, and a dark pinstriped jacket, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and I saw a sprinkling of hair in the gap.

_In my groggy frame of mind, he looks yummy._

He took my hand once more as he led me onto the dance floor.  _Holy moly. Shit. I do not dance._ He could sense my reluctance and under the colored lights I saw his amused, sardonic smile. He gave my hand a sharp tug and I was in his arms again as he started to move, taking me with him.

_Boy, he can dance and I can't believe that I'm following him step by step._

Maybe it was because I was drunk that I could keep up. He was holding me tight against him, his body against mine and if he wasn't clutching me so tightly, I'm sure I would swoon at his feet. In the back of my mind, my mother's often-recited warning cameto me:  _Never trust a man who can dance._

He moved us through the crowded throng of dancers to the other side of the dance floor and we were beside Liam and Zayn, Harry's brother. The music was pounding away, loud and leery, outside and inside my head.  _Oh no. Liam is making his moves._  He was dancing his ass off and he only ever did that if he liked someone.

_Really liked someone. It means there will be three of us for breakfast tomorrow morning. Liam!_

Harry leaned over and shouted in Zayn's ear something that I couldn't hear. Zayn has a tall structure with wide shoulders, dark hair, and light, wickedly brown eyes. Zayn grinned and pulled Liam into his arms, where he was more than happy to be, leaving me shocked _. He just met him._  Zayn said something in his ear, making him nod, and waved me goodbye, and Harry propelled us off the dance floor in double time.

_But I never got to talk to him. Is he okay? I can see where things are heading for them. I need to do the safe-sex lecture. In the back of my mind, I hope he reads one of the posters inside the bathroom door._

The thoughts came crashing into my brain, fighting my dizziness. I started to feel that the place was becoming really hot and blending with all the noise, all the bright colors. My head started spinning and I felt my body go numb. I would go straight with my face to the ground but somehow I didn't. The last thing I heard before blacking out in the arms of Harry Styles was him murmuring under his hard breath.

"Fuck!"


	5. Chapter 5

_It's very quiet._

With the light muted, I got myself comfortable and warmed in the bed. I opened my eyes and, for a moment, I was tranquil and serene, enjoying the strange, unfamiliar surroundings.

_Although, I have no idea where I am._

The headboard behind me making the shape of a massive sun wasoddly familiar _,_ the room looking large and airy with plushly furnished in browns, golds, and beiges.  _I have seen it before but where?_  My befuddled brain struggled through the recent visual memories.

_Holy crap. I'm in a suite at the Heathman Hotel. I have stood in a room similar to this with Liam but this looked bigger._

_Oh, shit, I'm in Harry Styles' suite. How did I get here?_

Fractured memories of the previous night came slowly back to haunt me. The drinking,  _the damn drinking;_ the phone call,  _the damn phone call;_ the vomiting,  _the damn vomiting._ Niall and then Harry. But no memories of going to the hotel with Harry.

I noticed that I was still wearing my t-shirt and boxers but no socks or jeans.

_Holy shit._

I glanced at the bedside table and saw that on it was a glass of orange juice and two tablets of Advil _. Control freak that he is, he thinks of everything._  I sat up and took the tablets.  _Actually, I don't feel that bad, probably much better than I deserve._  The orange juice tasted divine,thirst-quenching and refreshing.

When I heard a knock on the door, my heart leaped into my mouth and I couldn't seem to find my voice but he opened the door anyway and strolled in.

_Holy hell, he's been working out._

He had gray sweatpants that were hanging, in that way, off his hips, and a gray sleeveless t-shirt that was painted dark with sweat, like his hair. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, feeling like a two-year-old.

"Good morning Louis. How are you feeling?"

"Better than I deserve..." I mumbled, peeking up at him. He placed a large shopping bag on a chair and passed the towel that was around his neck on his forehead. Staring at me, green dark eyes making me feel, as usual, that I had no idea what he was always thinking.  _He hides his thoughts and feelings so well._  "How did I get here?" My voice left my mouth small and weak.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough for me to touch him, for me to smell him.

"After you passed out, I didn't want to risk the leather upholstery in my car taking you all the way to your apartment. So I brought you here." He explained.

"Did you put me to bed?"

"Yes." He answered with his face impassive.

"Did I throw up again?" My voice sounded quieter than before.

"No."

"Did you undress me?" I whispered.

"Yes." He quirked an eyebrow at me as I blushed furiously.

"We didn't... you know?" I whispered again, not being able to find my voice and I looked down at my hands.

"Louis, you were comatose. Necrophilia is not my thing. I like my men sentient and receptive." He said dryly.

"I'm so sorry..." I muttered almost with no voice and his mouth lifted slightly in a wry smile.

"It was a very diverting evening and it's definitely not one evening that I'll forget in a while."

 _Me neither and_   _he's actually laughing at me, the bastard. I didn't ask him to come and get me. Somehow I've been made to feel like the villain of the piece._

"You didn't have to track me down with whatever James Bond gadgetry you're developing for the highest bidder." I snapped and he just kept staring at me, surprised and, if I'm not mistaken, a little wounded.

"First, the technology to track cell phones is available all over the Internet. Second, my company does not invest or manufacture any kind of surveillance devices. And third, if I hadn't come to get you, you'd probably be waking up in the photographer's bed and, from what I can remember, you weren't overly enthused about him pressing his suit." He said acidly.

_Pressing his suit!_

I glanced up at Harry, noticing him glaring back at me, his eyes blazing, aggrieved and I tried to bit my lip but I failed to repress my giggle.

"Which medieval chronicle did you escape from? You sound like a courtly knight." I said and I noticed his mood shifting. His eyes softened and his expression warmed, a trace of a smile starting to appear on his lips.

"I don't think so, Louis. Dark Knight, maybe." His smile was sardonic and he shook his head. "Did you eat last night?" His tone changed to an accusatory one and I only shook my head. His jaw clenched but his face remained impassive. "You need to eat, that's why you were so ill. Honestly, it's drinking rule number one." He ran his hand through his hair and I knew it was because he was exasperated.

"Are you going to continue to scold me?"

"Is that what I'm doing?"

"I think so..."

"You're lucky I'm just scolding you." He said and I rose an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if you were mine, you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday. You didn't eat, you got drunk, and you put yourself at risk." He closed his eyes, dread etching briefly on his face and he shuddered. When he opened his eyes again, he fixed them on me. "I hate to think what could have happened to you."

_What is his problem? What's it to him?_

"I would have been fine. I was with Liam."

"And the photographer?" He snapped at me.

_That reminds me that I'll need to face Niall at some point._

"Niall just got out of line..." I shrugged.

"Well, the next time he gets out of line, maybe someone should teach him some manners."

"You are quite the disciplinarian..."

"Oh, Louis, you have no idea..." His eyes narrowed and he grinned wickedly.  _It's disarming. One minute, I'm confused and angry, the next, I'm gazing at his gorgeous smile._   _His smile is so rare._ "I'm going to have a shower. Unless you'd like to shower first?" He tilted his head to the side, still grinning as my heartbeat picked up and my medulla oblongata neglected to fire any synapses to make me breathe. His grin widened and he reached over, running his thumb down my cheek and across my lower lip. "Breathe, Louis." He whispered before he stood up. "Breakfast will be here in fifteen minutes. You must be famished." He headed into the bathroom and closed the door.

I let out the breath that I had been holding.

_Why is he so damn attractive? Right now, I want to go and join him in the shower and I have never felt this way about anyone._

My skin was tingling where his thumb traced over my face and lower lip, and I started squirming with a needy, achy discomfort.

_I don't understand this reaction. It's just desire, Louis. This is desire. This is what if feels like._

I lied back on the soft feather-filled pillows.

 _'If you were mine.' Oh boy, what would I do to be his? He's the only man who has ever set the blood racing through my body yet he's so antagonizing too; he's difficult, complicated and confusing. One minute he rebuffs me, the next he sends me fourteen-thousand-dollar books, then he tracks me like a stalker. And for all that, I have spent the night in his hotel suite and I feel safe._   _Protected. He cared enough to come and rescue me from some mistakenly perceived danger and that made me think that he's not a dark knight at all but a white knight in shining, dazzling armor like a classic romantic hero, Sir Gawain or Sir Lancelot._

I scrambled out of his bed frantically searching for my jeans and he emerged from the bathroom wet and glistening from the shower, still unshaven with just a towel around his waist. He looked at me and seemed surprised to see me out of bed.

"If you are looking for your jeans, I've sent them to the laundry." His gaze looking at me darkly. "They were spattered with your vomit."

"Oh..." I flushed scarlet.

"I sent Dylan out for another pair and some shoes. They're in the bag on the chair."

_Clean clothes, what an unexpected bonus._

"Uhm... I'll have a shower..." I muttered. "Thanks..." I grabbed the bag and darted into the bathroom away from the unnerving proximity of naked Harry.

In the bathroom, it was all hot and steamy so I stripped off my clothes and quickly clambered into the shower, anxious to be under the cleansing stream of water. It cascaded over me and I held up my face into the welcoming torrent.

 _I want Harry Styles, I want him badly. Simple fact. For the first time in my life, I want to go to bed with someone._  I want to feel his hands and his mouth all over my body. He said he likes his men sentient. He's probably not  _celibate then. But he's not made a pass at me, unlike Tyler or Niall, I don't understand. Does he want me? He wouldn't kiss me last week._   _Am I repellent to him? And yet I'm here and he brought me here. I just don't know what his game is._   _What's he thinking? You've slept in his bed all night and he's not touched you, Lou._   _You do the math._

The water felt warm and soothing against my body.

_Hmm... I could stay under the shower or in his bathroom forever._

I reached for the body wash and it smelled of him.

_It's a delicious smell._

I rubbed it all over myself fantasizing that it was him; him rubbing this heavenly scented soap into my body, across my chest, over my stomach, my back, between my butt cheeks with his long-fingered hands.

_Oh my, this feels so good._

"Breakfast is here." He knocked on the door, startling me.

"O-Okay!" I stuttered as I was yanked cruelly out of my erotic daydream.

I climbed out of the shower and grabbed two towels. One to put around my waist and the other to use to dry my hair. Hastily, I dried myself, ignoring the pleasurable feel of the towel rubbing against my oversensitized skin.

I inspected the bag for jeans, noticing that not only had Dylan brought me jeans and new Converse, but also a pale blue shirt, socks, and underwear. Clean boxers, exquisitely designed fancy European, all pale blue. I dressed them and they fit perfectly but, of course, they would.

I dressed quickly and, of course, the rest of the clothing was a perfect fit. I brusquely towel-dried my hair and tried desperately to bring it under control. But, as usual, it refused to cooperate and it would only go to the right place with a brush, that I should have on my bag, wherever it was.

I took a deep breath, time to face Mister Confusing.

I was relieved to find the bedroom empty and I looked around for my phone but I couldn't find it _._ Taking another deep breath, I entered the living area of the suite, huge living areawithan opulent plush seating area, all overstuffed couches and soft cushions, an elaborate coffee table with a stack of large glossy books, a study area with the latest-generation iMac, and an enormous plasma screen TV on the wall.

I saw Harry sitting at a dining table on the other side of the room reading a newspaper.

 _It's the size of a tennis court or something not that I play tennis, though I have watched Liam a few times._   _Liam!_

"Crap! Liam!" I croaked and Harry peered up at me.

"He knows you're here and still alive, I texted Zayn." He said with just a trace of humor. 

 _Oh no. I remember his fervent dancing of the night before_ ;  _all his patented moves used with maximum effect to seduce Harry's brother,_   _no less! What's he going to think about me being here?_   _I've never stayed out before. He's still with Zayn_. _He's only done this twice before and both times I've had to endure the break-up PJs for a week. He's going to think I've had a one-night stand, too._  

Harry stared at me imperiously, wearing a white linen shirt, collar and cuffs undone. 

"Sit." He commanded, pointing to a place at the table and I made my way across the room, to sit down opposite him as I've directed and noticed that the table is laden with food. "I didn't know what you like so I ordered a selection from the breakfast menu." He gave me a crooked, apologetic smile.

"That's very profligate of you..." I murmured, bewildered by the choice, though I was not very hungry.

"Yes, it is." He sounded guilty. Then, I opted for pancakes, maple syrup, scrambled eggs and bacon. Harry tried to hide a smile as he returned to his egg white omelet. "Tea?" He asked.

"Yes, please..."

He passed me a small teapot of hot water and on the saucer a Twinings English Breakfast tea bag.

_He remembers how I like my tea._

"Your hair's very damp." He scolded.

"I couldn't find the hairdryer..." I muttered embarrassed but not that I actually looked for it.I sawHarry's mouth pressed into a hard line but he didn't say anything. "Thank you for the clothes..."

"It's a pleasure, Louis. That color suits you." I blushed and stared down at my fingers. "You know, you really should learn to take a compliment." His tone sounded castigating.

"I should give you some money for these clothes..." I murmured and he glared at me as if I had offended him on some level and I hurried on. "You've already given me the books, which, of course, I can't accept. But the clothes, please let me pay you back..." I smiled tentatively at him.

"Louis, trust me, I can afford it."

"That's not the point, why should you buy these for me?"

"Because I can." His eyes flashed with a wicked gleam.

"Just because you can doesn't mean that you should..." I replied quietly as he arched an eyebrow at me, his eyes twinkling and suddenly I felt that we were talking about something else but I didn't know what it was. "Why did you send me the books, Harry?" My voice sounded soft as he put down his cutlery and regarded me intently, his eyes burning with some unfathomable emotion.

_Holy crap, my mouth is dry._

"Well, when you were nearly run over by the cyclist and I was holding you and you were looking up at me all 'kiss me Harry'..." He paused and shrugged. "I felt I owed you an apology and a warning." He ran his hand through his hair. "Louis, I'm not a hearts and flowers kind of man... I don't do romance. My tastes are very singular, you should steer clear of me." He closed his eyes as if in defeat. "There's something about you, though, and I'm finding it impossible to stay away but I think you've figured that out already." My appetite vanished.

_He can't stay away!_

"Then don't..." I whispered and he gasped with his eyes wide.

"You don't know what you're saying..."

"Enlighten me, then." We sat gazing at each other, neither of us touching our food. "You're not celibate, then?" I breathed and amusement lighted up his eyes.

"No, Louis, I'm not celibate." He paused for this information to sink in and I flushed scarlet, the mouth-to-brain filter broken again, notbelieving I said that out loud. "What are your plans for the next few days?" He asked, his voice low.

"I'm working today, from midday. What time it is?"

"It's just after ten, you have plenty of time. What about tomorrow?" He had his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his long, steepled fingers.

"Liam and I are going to start packing. We're moving to Seattle next weekend and I'm working on Quin's all week."

"You have a place in Seattle already?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I can't remember the address. It's in the Pike Market District."

"Not far from me." He smiled. "So what are you doing to do for work in Seattle?"

_Where is he going with all these questions? The Harry Styles Inquisition is almost as irritating as the Liam Payne Inquisition._

"I've applied for some internships. I'm waiting to hear."

"Have you applied to my company as I suggested?" I flushed with the question.

"Uh, no..."

"And what's wrong with my company?"

"Your company or your company?" I smirked.

"Are you smirking at me, Mister Tomlinson?" He tilted his head to one side and all that crossed my mind was that he looked amused but it was hard to tell. I flushed and glanced down at my unfinished breakfast, not able tolook him in the eye when he used that tone of voice. "I'd like to bite that lip..." He whispered darkly.

I gasped, completely unaware that I was chewing my bottom lip and my mouth popped open.  _That has to be the sexiest thing anybody has ever said to me._  My heartbeat spiked and I noticed I was panting.I was a quivering mess and he didn't even touch me. I squirmed in my seat and met his dark glare.

"Why don't you?" I challenged quietly.

"Because I'm not going to touch you, Louis, not until I have your written consent to do so." His lips hinted at a smile.

_What?_

"What does that mean?"

"Exactly what I said." He sighed, shaking his head at me, amused but exasperated too. "I need to show you, Louis. What time do you finish work this evening?"

"About eight."

"Well, we could go to Seattle this evening or next Sunday for dinner at my place and I'll acquaint you with the facts then. The choice is yours."

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"Because I'm enjoying my breakfast and your company. Once you're enlightened, you probably won't want to see me again."

_What does that mean? Does he white-slave small children to some godforsaken part of the planet? Is he part of some underworld crime syndicate? It would explain why he's so rich. Is he deeply religious? Is he impotent? Surely not; he could prove that to me right now._

I flushed scarlet thinking about the possibilities but knowing that it wouldn't get me anywhere.

 _I'd like to solve the riddle that is Harry Styles sooner rather than later._   _If it means that whatever secret he has is so gross that I don't want to know him anymore, then, quite frankly, it will be a relief._

"Tonight..." I said and he rose an eyebrow.

"Like Eve, you're so quick to eat from the tree of knowledge." He smirked.

"Are you smirking at me, Mister Styles?" I asked sweetly and he narrowed his eyes at me, picking up his iPhone to press one number before putting the phone on his ear.

"Dylan. I'm going to need Winslow."  _Who?_ "From Portland at twenty thirty... No, standby at Escala... All night."  _All night!_ "Yes. On call tomorrow morning. I'll pilot from Portland to Seattle."  _Pilot?_ "Standby pilot from twenty-two thirty." He put the phone down, hanging up without saying 'please' or 'thank you'.

"Do people always do what you tell them?"

"Usually, if they want to keep their jobs." He said.

"And if they don't work for you?"

"Oh, I can be very persuasive, Louis. You should finish your breakfast. And then I'll drop you off at home. I'll pick you up at Quin's at eight when you finish and we'll fly up to Seattle." I blinked at him rapidly.

"Fly?"

"Yes, I have a helicopter."

_Of course, you do. I have my second date with Harry Oh-So-Mysterious Styles. From coffee to helicopter rides. Wow._

"We'll go by helicopter to Seattle?"

"Yes."

"Why?" I asked and he grinned wickedly.

"Because I can. Now, finish your breakfast."  _How can I eat now? I'm going to Seattle by helicopter with Harry Styles and he wants to bite my lip._ "Eat." He said more sharply. "Louis, I have an issue with wasted food. Eat."

"I can't eat all this!" I gaped at what was left on the table.

"Eat what's on your plate. If you'd eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn't be here and I wouldn't be declaring my hand so soon." His mouth set in a grim line, making him look angry and I frowned while returning to my cold food.  _I'm too excited to eat, Harry, don't you understand?_ I kept my eyes on the food, eating slowly. "Good boy." He said. "I'll take you home when you've dried your hair, I don't want you getting ill."

I felt some kind of unspoken promise in his words.

_What does he mean?_

I left the table, wondering for a moment if I should ask permission but dismissing the idea.

_Sounds like a dangerous precedent to set._

I headed back to his bedroom but a thought stopped me.

"Where did you sleep last night?" I turned to gaze him still sitting in the dining room chair.

"In my bed." He said simply, his gaze impassive again.

"Oh."

"Yes, it was quite a novelty for me, too." He smiled.

"Not having sex?" I blushed just for saying the word.

"No." He shook his head and he frowned as if recalling something uncomfortable. "Sleeping with someone in the same bed." He picked up his newspaper and continued to read.

_What the hell does that mean? He's never slept with anyone? He's a virgin? Somehow I doubt that._

I stood staring at him in disbelief.

_He is the most mystifying person I've ever met. It dawned on me that I have slept with Harry Styles and I kicked myself mentally. What would I have given to be conscious to watch him sleep? See him vulnerable since somehow, I find that hard to imagine._

In his bedroom, I hunted through a chest of drawers and found the hairdryer. Using my fingers, I dried my hair the best I could and when I finished, I headed into the bathroom. I wanted to brush my teeth so I eyed Harry's toothbrush. Glancing guiltily over my shoulder at the door, I felt the bristles on the toothbrush.

 _They are damp_ ,  _he must have used it already._

I grabbed it quickly, squirting toothpaste on it and I brushed my teeth in double time.

Grabbing my t-shirt and boxers from the previous night, I put them in the shopping bag that Dylan brought and headed back to the living area to hunt for my jacket. Deep joy, I found them just like my phone that was inside of one of the pockets. I saw Harry watching me as I dressed my jacket and I felt his eyes following me as I sat down and waited for him to finish. Then I noticed he was on his iPhone, talking to someone.

"They want two?... How much will that cost?... Okay, and what safety measures do we have in place?... And they'll go via Suez?... How safe is Ben Suden?... And when do they arrive in Darfur?... Okay, let's do it. Keep me abreast of the progress." He hung up, still looking at me. "Ready to go?" I nodded, wondering what his conversation was about. He slipped on a navy pinstriped jacket, picking up his car keys and headed for the door while I got up. "After you, Mister Tomlinson." He murmured, opening the door for me and I noticed how casually elegant he looked.

I paused, fractionally too long, drinking in the sight of him and to think I slept with him last night and, after all the tequila, the throwing up, he was still there _. More, he wants to take me to Seattle._   _Why me? I don't understand it._  I headed out the door recalling his words.

_He is such a secret._

We walked in silence down the corridor toward the elevator. As we waited, I peeked up at him through my lashes and he looked out of the corner of his eyes down at me. I smiled and his lips twitched.

The elevator arrived and we stepped in, seeing we were alone. Suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, possibly our proximity in such an enclosed space, the atmosphere between us changed, charged with an electric, exhilarating anticipation. My breathing altered as my heart raced. His head turned fractionally toward me, his eyes darkest slate andI bite my lip.

"Oh, fuck the paperwork." He growled.

He lunged at me, pushing me against the wall of the elevator and before I knew it, he had both of my hands in one of his in a viselike grip above my head while he pinned me to the wall using his hips.

His other hand grabbed my hair and yanked down, bringing my face up, pressing our lips together.  _It's only just not painful._ I moaned into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening and he took full advantage, his tongue expertly exploring my mouth. _I have never been kissed like this._ My tongue tentatively stroked his and joined him in a slow, erotic dance that was all about touch and sensation, all bump and grind.

He brought his hand up to grasp my chin and held me in place. I was helpless, my hands pinned, my face held and his hips restraining me, his erection against my belly and mine against his thigh.

 _Oh boy. He wants me. Harry Styles, the Greek god, wants me and I want him, here,_   _now in the elevator._

"You. Are. So. Sweet." He murmured each word a staccato.

The elevator stopped, the doors opened and he pushed away from me in the blink of an eye, leaving me hanging. Three men in business suits looked at both at us and smirked as they climbed on board. My heart rated through the roof, I felt like I've run an uphill race and I wanted to lean over and grasp my knees, but that was just too obvious. I glanced up at him.

_He looks so cool and calm like he's been doing the Seattle Times crossword. How unfair, is totally unaffected by my presence?_

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eyes and he gently blew out a deep breath, obviously affected _._ The businessmen exited on the second floor and we had one more floor to travel.

"You've brushed your teeth." He said, staring at me.

"I used your toothbrush." I declared and his lips quirked in a half smile.

"Oh, Louis Tomlinson, what am I going to do with you?" The doors opened on the first floor and he grabbed my hand, pulling me out. "What is it about elevators?" He muttered, more to himself than to me as he strode across the lobby. 

I struggled to keep up with him because my wits had been thoroughly and royally scattered all over the floor and walls of elevator three in the Heathman Hotel.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry opened the passenger-side door to the black Audi SUV and I clambered in, thinking how it was a beast of a car. He didn't mention the outburst of passion that exploded in the elevator.

_Should I? Should we talk about it or pretend that it didn't happen?_

It hardly seemed real, my first proper no-holds-barred kiss. As time ticked on, I assigned it mythical, Arthurian legend, Lost City of Atlantis status.It never happened, it never existed, perhaps I imagined it all.  _No._ I touched my lips, swollen from his kiss. 

_It definitely happened and I am a changed person._

_I want this man desperately and he wants me._

I glanced at Harry, seeing he was in his usual polite, slightly distant self. 

_How confusing._

He started the engine and reversed out of his space in the parking lot. He switched on the sound system and the car interior was filled with the sweetest, most magical music of two women singing. All my senses were in disarray, so it was doubly affecting. It sent delicious shivers up my spine as Harry pulled out onto Southwest Park Avenue and drove with easy, lazy confidence.

"What are we listening to?"

"It's The Flower Duet by Delibes, from the opera Lakmé. Do you like it?"

"It's wonderful, Harry..."

"It is, isn't it?" He grinned, glancing at me and for a fleeting moment, he seemed his age, young, carefree and heart-stoppingly beautiful. 

 _Is this the key to him? Music?_  

I just sat and listened to the angelic voices teasing and seducing me.

"Can I hear that again?"

"Of course." Harry pushed a button and the music was caressing me once more. A gentle, slow, sweet and sure assault on my aural senses.

"You like classical music?" I asked, hoping for a rare insight into his personal preferences.

"My taste is eclectic, Louis, everything from Thomas Tallis to the Kings of Leon. It depends on my mood. You?"

"Me, too. Though I don't know who Thomas Tallis is." I said and he turned, gazing at me briefly before his eyes were back on the road.

"I'll play it for you sometime. He's a sixteenth-century British composer. Tudor, church choral music." Harry grinned at me. "Sounds very esoteric I know but it's also magical."

He pressed a button and the Kings of Leon started singing. 

 _This I know. 'Sex on Fire'._   _How appropriate._

The music was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone ringing over the sound system speakers. Harry hit a button on the steering wheel.

"Styles." He snapped. 

_He's so brusque._

**"Mister Styles, it's Welch here. I have the information you require."** A rasping, disembodied voice came over the speakers.

"Good. E-mail it to me. Anything to add?"

**"No, sir."**

He pressed the same button and then the call ceased and the music was back. No 'goodbye' or 'thanks'. I was so glad that I never seriously entertained the thought of working for him. I shuddered at the very idea.

He's just too controlling and cold with his employees. 

The music cut off again for the phone.

"Styles."

 **"The NDA has been emailed to you, Mister Styles!"** A woman's voice sounded through the speakers.

"Good. That's all, Aimee."

**"Good day, sir."**

Harry hung up by pressing a button on the steering wheel and the music was on very briefly when the phone rang again.

_Holy hell, is this his life, constant nagging phone calls?_

"Styles." He snapped.

**"Hi, Harry, d'you get laid?"**

"Hello, Zayn, I'm on speakerphone and I'm not alone in the car." Harry sighed.

 **"Who's with you?"** Zayn asked andHarry rolled his eyes.

"Louis Tomlinson."

**"Hi, Lou!"**

_Lou!_

"Hello, Zayn."

 **"Heard a lot about you."** Zayn murmured huskily and Harry frowned.

"Don't believe a word Liam says!" I said and Zayn laughed.

"I'm dropping Louis off now!" Harry emphasized my full name. "Shall I pick you up?"

**"Sure."**

"See you shortly." Harry hung up and the music was back.

"Why do you insist on calling me just Louis?"

"Because it's your name."

"I prefer Lou."

"Do you now?" We were almost at my apartment and it was not long. "Louis." He mused and I scowled at him, but he ignored my expression. "What happened in the elevator... It won't happen again, well, not unless it's premeditated."

He pulled up outside my duplex and I belatedly realized he didn't ask me where I live, yet he knew. But then he sent the books, of course, he knew where I live.

_What able, cell phone tracking, helicopter-owning stalker wouldn't? Why won't he kiss me again?_

I pouted at the thought. 

 _I don't understand. Honestly, his surname should be Cryptic, not Styles._  

He climbed out of the car, walking with easy, long-legged grace around to my side to open the door, ever the gentleman, except perhaps in rare, precious moments in elevators. I flushed at the memory of his mouth on mine and the thought that I'd been unable to touch him entered my mind. I wanted to run my fingers through his decadent, untidy hair, but I'd been unable to move my hands. 

_I am retrospectively frustrated._

"I like what happened in the elevator..." I murmured as I climbed out of the car, not sure if I heard an audible gasp, but I chose to ignore it and headed up the steps to the front door.

Liam and Zayn were sitting at our dining table, the fourteen-thousand-dollar books disappeared.

_Thank heavens. I have plans for them and he has the most un-Liam-like ridiculous grin on his face and he looks messed up in a sexy kind of way._

Harry followed me into the living room and in spite of his I've-been-having-a-good-time-all-night grin, Liam eyed him suspiciously.

"Hi, Lou!" He leaped up to hug me, then held me at arm's length so he could examine me. He frowned and turned to Harry. "Good morning, Harry." He said and his tone sounded a little hostile.

"Mister Payne!" Harry said in his stiff, formal way.

"Harry, his name is Liam!" Zayn grumbled.

"Liam." Harry gave his polite nod and looked at Zayn, who grinned and got up to hug me, too.

"Hi, Lou." He smiled, his brown eyes twinkling and I liked him immediately. 

_He's obviously nothing like Harry but then they are adoptive brothers so._

"Hi, Zayn." I smiled at him and I was aware that I was biting my lip.

"Zayn, we'd better go..." Harry said mildly.

"Sure." He turned to Liam and pulled him into his arms, giving him a long kiss.

I looked at my feet, embarrassed but then I glanced up at Harry, noticing he was watching me intently and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

_Why can't you kiss me like that?_

Zayn continued to kiss Liam, sweeping him off his feet and dipping him in a dramatic hold so that his hair almost touched the ground as he kissed him hard.

"Laters, babe." He grinned.

Liam just melted and I've never seen him melt before. _Compliant Liam._   _Boy, Zayn must be good._ Harry rolled his eyes and stared down at me, his expression unreadable, although maybe he was mildly amused. He passed his thumb on my cheek, going all the way down to my lower lip and my blood seared in my veins but, all too quickly, his touch was gone.

"Laters, baby..." He murmured and I had to laugh because it was so unlike him but even though I knew he was being irreverent, the endearment tugging at something deep inside me. "I'll pick you up at eight." He turned to leave, opening the front door and stepped out onto the porch. Zayn followed him to the car but turned and blew Liam another kiss, making me feel an unwelcome pang of jealousy.

"So, did you?" Liam asked as we watched them climb into the car and drive off, the burning curiosity evident in his voice.

"No!" I snapped irritably, hoping that would halt the questions and we headed back to the apartment. "You obviously did, though." I couldn't contain my envy. 

_Liam always managed to ensnare men. He is irresistible, beautiful, sexy, funny, forward... All the things that I'm not. But his answering grin was infectious._

"And I'm seeing him again this evening." He clapped his hands, jumping up and down like a small child, not containing his excitement and happiness, and I couldn't help out but feel happy for him. 

_A happy Liam... this is going to be interesting._

"Harry is taking me to Seattle this evening..."

"Seattle?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you will then?"

"Oh, I hope so."

"You like him?"

"Yes..."

"Like him enough to let him fuck you?"

"Yes."

"Wow. Louis Tomlinson, falling for a man so quickly and it's Harry Styles, hot, sexy, and billionaire." He rose his eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, it's all about the money!" I smirked and we both fell into a fit of giggles.

"Is that a new blouse?" He asked and I let him have all the unexciting details about my night. "Has he kissed you yet?" He asked as he made coffee and I blushed.

"Once."

"Once!" He scoffed and I nodded, shamefaced.

"He's very reserved..." I explained and he frowned.

"That's odd. We need to make sure you're simply irresistible for this evening." He said with determination.

_Oh no. This sounds like it will be time-consuming, humiliating and painful._

"I have to be at work in an hour."

"I can work with that time frame. Come on." Liam grabbed my hand, taking me into his bedroom.

**ººº**

The day dragged at Quin's even though we were busy. We hit the summer season, so I had to spend two hours restocking the shelves once the shop was closed. It was mindless work and it gave me too much time to think since I didn't really have a chance all day.

Under Liam's tireless and frankly intrusive instruction, my legs and underarms were shaved to perfection, my eyebrows plucked and I was buffed all over. It was the most unpleasant experience but he assured me that those clothes were what people expected those days.

_What else will he expect? I have to convince Liam that this is what I want to do. For some strange reason, he doesn't trust me, maybe because Harry is so stiff and formal. Liam says he can't put his finger on it but I have promised to text him once I arrived in Seattle. I haven't told Liam about the helicopter; he'd freak._

I also have the Niall issue. He left three messages and seven missed calls on my cell. He also called home twice but Liam had been very vague as to where I was. 

_Niall knows he was always covering for me since Liam doesn't do vague. But I have decided to let him stew. I'm still too angry._

Harry mentioned some kind of written paperwork and I didn't know if he was joking or if I was going to have to sign something.

 _It's frustrating trying to guess and on top of all the angst, I can barely contain my excitement or my nerves._   _Tonight's the night!_   _After all this time am I ready for this? I've been ready for this for years and I'm definitely ready for anything with Harry Styles but I still don't understand what he sees in me. Makes no sense._

He was punctual, of course, and waiting for me when I left the store. He climbed out of the back of the Audi to open the door and smiled warmly at me.

"Good evening, Mister Tomlinson." He said.

"Mister Styles." I nodded politely to him as I climbed into the backseat of the car. Dylan was sitting in the driver's seat.

"Hello, Dylan!" I said.

"Good evening, Mister Tomlinson." His voice was polite and professional. Harry climbed on the other side and clasped my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that echoed through my body.

"How was work?" He asked.

"Very long..." I replied and my voice sounded husky, too low and full of need.

"Yes, it's been a long day for me, too."

"What did you do?" I managed.

"I went hiking with Zayn." His thumb stroked my knuckles, back and forth, and my heart skipped a beat as my breathing accelerated.

_How does he do this to me? He's only touching a very small area of my body and the hormones are flying._

The drive to the heliport was short and, before I knew it, we arrived. 

_I wonder where the fabled helicopter might be. We are in a built-up area of the city and even I know helicopters need space to take off and land._

Dylan parked, climbing out, and opened the door for me. Harry was beside me in an instant and took my hand again.

"Ready?" He asked and I nodded. "Dylan." He nodded curtly at his driver and we headed into the building, straight to a set of elevators. The memory of our kiss in the morning came back to haunt me. I thought of nothing else all day, daydreaming at the register at work, Mister Quin had to shout my name twice to bring me back to Earth. To say I was distracted would be the understatement of the year. Harry glanced down at me, a slight smile on his lips. "It's only three floors." He said dryly, his eyes dancing with amusement. 

 _He's telepathic, surely._   _It's spooky._

I tried to keep my face impassive as we entered the elevator. The doors closed and it was this weird electrical attraction crackling between us, enslaving me, making me close my eyes in a vain attempt to ignore it. He tightened his grip on my hand and five seconds later the doors opened onto the roof of the building. And there it was, a white helicopter with the name  **STYLES ENTERPRISES HOLDINGS, INC** , written in blue with the company logo on the side. 

_Surely this is a misuse of company property._

He led me to a small office where an old-timer sat behind the desk.

"Here's your flight plan, Mister Styles! All external checks are done. It's ready and waiting, sir. You're free to go."

"Thank you, Joe." Harry smiled warmly at him.  _Oh, someone deserving of the polite treatment from Harry. Perhaps he's not an employee._  "Let's go!" Harry said and we made our way towards the helicopter. When we were up close, it was much bigger than I thought since I expected it to be a roadster version for two but it had at least seven seats. Harry opened the door and directed me to one of the seats at the very front. "Sit, don't touch anything." He ordered as he climbed in behind me.

He shut the door with a slam and I was glad that the area was floodlit, otherwise, I would find it difficult to see inside the small cockpit. I sat down in my allotted seat and he couched beside me to strap me into the harness with all the straps connecting to one central buckle. He tightened both of the upper straps so I could hardly move, so close to me and intent on what he was doing.

 _If I could only lean forward, my nose would be in his hair._  

He smelled clean, fresh, heavenly, but I was fastened securely to my seat and effectively immobile. He glanced up and smiled, like he was enjoying his usual private joke, his eyes heated. He was so tantalizingly close and I held my breath as he pulled at one of the upper straps.

"You're secure, no escaping." He whispered. "Breathe, Louis." He added softly. Reaching up, he caressed my cheek, running his long fingers down to my chin, which he grasped between his thumb and forefinger. He leaned forward and planted a brief, chaste kiss on my lips, leaving me reeling, my insides clenching at the thrilling, unexpected touch of his lips. "I like this harness." He whispered. 

He sat down beside me and buckled himself into his seat, then began a protracted procedure of checking gauges and flipping switches and buttons from the mind-boggling array of dials, lights, and switches in front of me. Little lights winked and flashed from various dials and the whole of the instruments panel lights up.

"Put your cans on." He said, pointing to a set of headphones in front of me. I pulled them on and the rotor blades started, deafening.He put his headphones on and continued flipping various switches. "I'm just going through all the preflight checks." Harry disembodied voice was in my ears through the headphones. I turned and grinned at him.

"Do you know what you are doing?" I asked and he turned to me, smiling.

"I've been a fully qualified pilot for four years, Louis. You're safe with me." He gave me a wolfish grin. "Well, while we're flying." He added, winking at me. "Ready?" I nodded, wide-eyed. "Okay, tower PDX, this is Winslow Golf-Golf Echo Hotel, cleared for take-off. Please confirm, over."

**"Winslow, you are clear. PDX to call, proceed to one four thousand, heading zero one zero, over."**

"Roger, tower, Winslow set, over and out. Here we go." He added to me and the helicopter rose slowly and smoothly into the air.

Portland disappeared in front of us as we headed into the US airspace, though my stomach remained firmly in Oregon. All the bright lights shrank until they were twinkling sweetly below us and it was like looking out from inside a fishbowl. Once we were higher, there really was nothing to see. It was pitch-black, not even the moon to shed any light on our journey. 

_How can he see where we're going?_

"Oh my..." I whispered.

"Eerie, isn't it?" Harry's voice was in my ears again.

"How do you know you're going the right way?"

"Here." He pointed his long index finger at one of the gauges and it showed an electronic compass. "This is an EC135 Eurocopter, one of the safest in its class. It's equipped for night flight." He glanced and grinned at me. "There's a helipad on top of the building I live in. That's where we're heading."

"Oh, right..."

_Of course, there's a helipad where he lives. I am so out of my league here._

His face was softly illuminated by the lights on the instrument panel. He was concentrating hard and he was continually glancing at the various dials in front of him. I drank in his features from beneath my lashes. 

 _He has a beautiful profile. Straight nose, shaped jawed, I'd like to run my tongue along his jaw. He hasn't shaved and his stubble made the prospect doubly tempting._   _Hm._ _I'd like to feel how rough it is beneath my tongue, my fingers, against my face._

"When you fly at night, you fly blind. You have to trust the instrumentation." He said, interrupting my erotic reverie.

"How long will the flight be?" I managed breathlessly, I wasn't thinking about sex at all, no, no way.

"Less than an hour, the wind is in our favor." _Hm, less than an hour to Seattle, that's not bad going. No wonder we're flying._   _I have less than an hour before the big reveal._  All the muscles clenched deep in my belly and I had a serious case of butterflies flourishing in my stomach.  _Holy Shit, what has he got in store for me?_ "You are okay, Louis?"

"Yes." My answer was short, clipped, squeezing me through my nerves.  _I think he smiled but it's difficult to tell in the darkness._  Harry flicked yet another switch.

"PDX, this is Winslow now at one four thousand over." He exchanged information with air traffic control,all sounding very professional to me. _I think we're moving from Portland's airspace to Seattle International Airport's._ "Understood, Sea-Tac, standing by, over and out." He finished. "Look, over there." He pointed to a small pinpoint of light in the far distance. "That's Seattle."

"Do you always impress men this way? 'Come and fly in my helicopter?'" I asked, genuinely interested.

"I've never bought a man up here, Louis. It's another first for me." His voice sounded quiet and serious.  _Oh, that was an unexpected answer. Another first? Oh, the sleeping thing._ "Are you impressed?"

"I'm awed, Harry...." I admitted and he smiled.

"Awed?" For a brief moment, he was his age again and I nodded.

"You're just so... competent."

"Well, thank you, Mister Tomlinson." He said politely and I thought he was pleased,but I was not sure.

We rode in the dark night in silence for a while, seeing the bright spot that was Seattle slowly getting bigger.

**"Sea-Tac tower to Winslow. Flight plan to Escala in place. Please proceed. And standby. Over."**

"This is Winslow, understood, Sea-Tac. Standing by, over and out."

"You obviously enjoy this..." I murmured.

"What?" He glanced at me and he looked quizzical in the half-light of the instruments.

"Flying..." I replied.

"It requires control and concentration, how could I not love it? Though my favorite is soaring."

"Soaring?"

"Yes. Gliding, to the layperson. Gliders and helicopters, I fly them both."

"Oh." 

_Expensive hobbies. I remember him telling me during the interview. I like reading and occasionally going to the movies. I am out of my depth here._

**"Winslow, come in, please, over."**

The disembodied voice of air traffic control interrupted my reverie. Harry answered, sounding in control and confident.

Seattle was getting closer. 

_We are on the very outskirts now. Wow! It looks absolutely stunning. Seattle at night, from the sky..._

     

"Looks good, doesn't it?" Harry murmured and I nodded enthusiastically.

_It looks otherworldly unreal and I feel like I'm on a giant film set; Niall's favorite film maybe, Blade Runner._

The memory of Niall's attempted kiss haunted me and I was beginning to feel a bit cruel not calling him back. 

_He can wait until tomorrow though._

"We'll be there in a few minutes..." Harry muttered and, suddenly, my blood was pounding in my ears as my heartbeat accelerated and adrenaline spiked through my system. He started talking to air traffic control again, but I was no longer listening.

_I think I'm going to faint. My fate is in his hands._

"Good" I smiled at him.

We were flying among the buildings and up ahead I could see a tall skyscraper with a helipad on top. The word 'Escala' painted in white on top of the building. It was getting nearer and nearer, bigger and bigger, like my anxiety _._

 _God, I hope I don't let him down._   _He'll find me lacking in some way. I wish I'd listened to Liam and borrowed one of his tight jeans, but I like my black jeans, and I'm wearing a soft mint-green shirt and Liam's black jacket. I look smart enough._

I gripped the edge of my seat tighter and tighter.  _I can do this. I can do this._ I chanted the mantra as the skyscraper loomed below us.

The helicopter slowed and hovered, and Harry set it down on the helipad on top of the building. My heart was in my mouth butI couldn't decide if it was from nervous anticipation, relief that we arrived alive, or fear that I would fail in some way.

He switched the ignition off and the rotor bladed slow and quieted until all I heard was the sound of my own erratic breathing. Harry took his headphones off and reached across to pull mine off, too.

"We're here..." He said softly, his look so intense, half in shadow and half in the bright white light from the landing lights.  _Dark Knight and white knight, it's a fitting metaphor for Harry._  He looked strained, his jaw was clenched and his eyes tight. He unfastened his seatbelt and reached over to unbuckle mine, his face inches from mine."You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You know that, don't you?" His tone was so earnest, desperate even, his eyes impassioned, taking me by surprise.

"I'd never do anything I didn't want to do, Harry." As I said the words, I didn't quite feel their conviction, because, at that moment in time, I would probably do anything for the man sitting beside me. 

_But this does the trick. He's mollified._

He looked at me for a moment and somehow, even though he was so tall, he managed to ease his way gracefully to the door of the helicopter and opened it. He jumped out, waiting for me to follow and he took my hand as I clambered down on to the helipad. It was very windy on top of the building and I was nervous about the fact that I was standing at least thirty stories high in an unenclosed space. Harry wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me tightly against him.   

"Come!" He shouted above the noise of the wind. He dragged me over to an elevator and after tapping a number into a keypad, the door opened. It was warm inside and all mirrored glass. I could see Harry to infinity everywhere I looked, and the wonderful thing was that he was holding me to infinity, too. Harry tapped another code on the keypad, then the doors closed and the elevator descended.  

Moments later, we were in an all-white foyer. In the middle was one round dark wood table and on it an unbelievably huge bunch of white flowers. Paintings everywhere on the walls.

He opened a set of double doors and the white theme continued across a wide corridor where, directly opposite, was the entrance to a palatial room, the main living area, double height. 'Huge' was too small of a word for it. The far wall made of glass, leading onto a balcony that overlooked Seattle.  

To the right, an imposing U-shaped sofa that could seat ten adults comfortably, facing a state-of-the-art stainless-steel, or maybe platinum, for all I knew, modern fireplace. The fire lit and flaming gently. On the left beside us, by the entryway, the kitchen area. All white with dark wood worktops and a breakfast bar that seats six people.

Near the kitchen area, in front of the glass wall, a dining table surrounded by sixteen chairs. And tucked in the corner a full-sized, shiny black grand piano. 

_Oh yes, he probably plays the piano, too. Art of all shapes and sizes on all the walls. In fact, this apartment looks more like a gallery than a place to live._

"Can I take your jacket?" Harry asked and I shook my head, still cold from the wind on the helipad. "Would you like a drink?" He asked and I blinked at him.  _After last night!_   _Is he trying to be funny?_ For one second, I thought about asking for a margarita but I didn't have the nerve. "I'm going to have a glass of white wine. Would you like to join me?"

"Yes, please..." I murmured.

I stood in the enormous room, feeling out of place so I walked over to the glass wall and I realized that the lower half of the wall opened concertina style onto the balcony, Seattle lit up and lively in the background. I walked back to the kitchen area which took me a few seconds since it was a little far from the glass wall and Harry was opening a bottle of wine, his jacket laying on the top of the counter.

"Pouilly Fumé okay with you?"

"I know nothing about wine, Harry, I'm sure it will be fine." My voice sounded soft and hesitant and my heart was thumping. 

 _I want to run. This is seriously rich. Seriously over-the-top Bill Gates–style wealthy._   _What am I doing here?_ _Oh yes_ ,  _I want to be in Harry Styles' bed._

"Here." He handed me a glass of wine and I noticed that even the glasses were rich, heavy, contemporary crystal. I took a sip and tasted the light, crisp and delicious wine. "You're very quiet and you're not even blushing. In fact, I think this is the palest I've ever seen you, Louis." He murmured. "Are you hungry?" I shook my head.

_Not for food anyway._

"It's a very big place you have here."

"Big?"

"Big."

"It's big." He agreed and his eyes glowed with amusement while I took another sip of wine. 

"Do you play?" I pointed my chin at the piano.

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Yes."

"Of course you do. Is there anything you can't do well?"

"Yes, a few things." He took a sip of his wine, not taking his eyes off me, and I felt them following me as I turned and glared around this vast room.  _'Room' is the wrong word. It's not a room, it's a mission statement._  "Do you want to sit?" I nodded and he took my hand to lead me to the large off-white couch. As I sat, I was struck by the fact that I felt like Tess Durbeyfield looking at the new house that belongs to the notorious Alec d'Urberville.The thought made me smile."What's so amusing?" He sat down beside me, turning to face me. He rested his head on his right hand, his elbow propped on the back of the couch.

"Why did you give me Tess of the d'Urberville specifically?" I asked and Harry stared at me for a moment, making me think he was surprised by my question.

"Well, you said you liked Thomas Hardy."

"Is that the only reason?" Even I could hear the disappointment in my voice, his mouth was pressed into a hard line.

"It seemed appropriate. I could hold you to some impossibly high ideal like Angel Clare or debase you completely like Alec d'Urberville" He murmured and his eyes flashed dark and dangerous.

"If there are only two choices, I'll take the debasement..." I whispered, gazing at him and he gasped. 

"Louis, stop biting your lip, please, it's very distracting. You don't know what you're saying."

"That's why I'm here..." I said and he frowned.

"Yes. Would you excuse me for a moment?" He disappeared through a wide doorway on the far side of the room for a couple of minutes and then returned with a document. "This is a nondisclosure agreement." He shrugged and I could see a little embarrassment in his eyes. "My lawyer insists on it..." He handed it to me. "If you're going for option two, debasement, you'll need to sign this..."

"And if I don't want to sign anything?"

"Then it's Angel Clare high ideals, well, for most of the book anyway."

"What does this agreement mean?"

"It means you cannot disclose anything about us. Anything, to anyone." I stared at him in disbelief.

_Holy shit. It's bad, really bad, and now I'm very curious to know._

"Okay, I'll sign." I decided and he handed me a pen.

"Aren't you even going to read it?"

"No."

"You should always read anything you sign, Louis." 

"Harry, what you fail to understand is that I wouldn't talk about us to anyone anyway. Even Liam. So it's immaterial whether I sign an agreement or not. If it means so much to you, or your lawyer, whom you obviously talk to, then fine. I'll sign." I completed and he gazed down at me before nodding gravely.

"Fair point, well made, Mister Tomlinson."

I lavishly signed on the dotted line of both copies and handed one back to him, folding the other. I placed it in my pocket and took a large swig of my wine.

_I_ _'m sounding so much braver than I'm actually feeling._

"Does this mean you're going to make love to me tonight, Harry?" 

 _Holy shit. Did I just say that?_  

His mouth dropped open slightly, but he recovered quickly.

"No, Louis, it doesn't. First, I don't make love, I fuck, hard. Second, there's a lot more paperwork to do. And third, you don't yet know what you're in for. You could still run for the hills. Come, I want to show you my playroom." My mouth dropped open.

_Fuck hard, holy shit, that sounds so hot. But why are we looking for a playroom? I am mystified._

"You want to play on your Xbox?" I asked and he laughed loudly.

"No, Louis, no Xbox, no Playstation. Come." He stood, holding out his hand and I let him lead me back out to the corridor. On the right of the double doors, where we came in, another door led to a staircase. We got up to the second floor and turned right. Producing a key from his pocket, he unlocked yet another door and took a deep breath. "You can leave anytime. The helicopter is on standby to take you whenever you want to go, you can stay the night and go home in the morning. It's fine whatever you decide."

"Just open the damn door, Harry."

He opened the door and stood back to let me in. I gazed at him once more and so I wanted to know what was in here. I took a deep breath and I walked in and it felt like I had time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.

_Holy fuck._


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing I noticed was the smell of leather, wood, polish with a faint citrus scent, very pleasant, and saw how the lighting was soft and subtle. In fact, I couldn't see the source, but it was around the cornice in the room, emitting an ambient glow. The walls and ceiling painted with a deep, dark burgundy, giving a womb-like effect to the spacious room, and the floor looking old varnished wood. A large wooden cross like an X was fastened to the wall facing the door, made of high-polished mahogany, and I noticed restraining cuffs on each corner.   

Above it was an expansive iron grid suspended from the ceiling, eight-foot square at least, and from it hang all manner of ropes, chains, and glinting shackles. By the door, two long, polished, ornately carved poles, like spindles from a banister but longer, hanging like curtain rods across the wall. From them swung a startling assortment of paddles, whips, riding crops, and funny-looking feathery implements.    

Beside the door, I saw a substantial mahogany chest of drawers, each drawer slim as if designed to contain specimens in a crusty old museum. I wondered briefly what the drawers actually held. In the far corner, an oxblood leather padded bench and fixed to the wall. Beside it, a wooden polished rack that looked like a pool or billiard cue holder, but on closer inspection, it held canes of varying lengths and widths. A stout six-foot-long table was away in the opposite corner, polished wood with intricately carved legs, and two matching stools underneath.  

But what dominated the room was the bed. Bigger than king-sized, an ornately carved rococo four-poster with a flat top, looking late nineteenth century. Under the canopy, I could see more gleaming chains and cuffs. There was no bedding, just a mattress covered in red leather and red satin cushions piled at one end.  

At the foot of the bed, set apart a few feet, a large oxblood chesterfield couch, just stuck in the middle of the room facing the bed. An odd arrangement, to have a couch facing the bed, but I smiled to myself, I've picked on the couch as odd when really it was the most mundane piece of furniture in the room.

I glanced up and stared at the ceiling where there were carabiners all over the ceiling at odd intervals, making me vaguely wondered what they were for. Weirdly, all the wood, dark walls, moody lighting, and the oxblood leather made the room kind of soft and romantic.

_I know it's anything but that, this is Harry's version of soft and romantic._

I turned and he was regarding me intently, as I knew he would be, his expression completely unreadable. I walked farther into the room and he followed me. The feathery thing had me intrigued and I touched it hesitantly, feeling it suede, like a small cat-o'-nine-tails but bushier, and there were very small plastic beads on the end.

"It's called a flogger..." Harry's voice sounded quiet and soft.

My subconscious emigrated or was struck dumb or simply keeled over and expired. I could observe and absorb but not articulate my feelings about all that because I was completely in shock.

 _What is the appropriate response to finding out a potential lover is a complete freaky sadist or masochist?_   _Fear_ ,  _yes, that seems to be the overriding feeling. I recognize it now. But weirdly not of him,_   _I don't think he'd hurt me, well, not without my consent._   _So many questions cloud my mind_.

_Why? How? When? How often? Who?_

I walked toward the bed and ran my hands down one of the intricately carved posts, which was very sturdy, the craftsmanship outstanding.

"Say something..." Harry commanded, his voice deceptively soft.

"Do you do this to people or do they do it to you?" I asked and his mouth quirked up, either amused or relieved.

"People?" He blinked a couple of times as he considered his answer. "I do this to men who want me to." 

_I just don't understand._

"If you have willing volunteers, why am I here?"

"Because I want to do this with you, very much."

"Oh." I gasped. "Why?" I wondered to the far corner of the room and pat the waist-high padded bench before running my fingers over the leather. The thought that he likes to hurt people starting to depress me. "You're a sadist?"

"I'm a Dominant." His eyes were a scorching intense green.

"What does that mean?" I whispered.

"It means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me, in all things." I frowned at him as I tried to assimilate the idea.

"Why would I do that?"

"To please me." He whispered as he tilted his head to one side and I saw a ghost of a smile.  _Please him! He wants me to please him!_   _It's a revelation._ "In very simple terms. I want you to want to please me." He said softly, his voice sounded hypnotic.

"How do I do that?" My mouth dried and I wished I had more alcohol in my veins.

_Okay, I understand the pleasing bit, but I am puzzled by the soft-boudoir Elizabethan-torture setup. Do I want to know the answer?_

"I have rules and I want you to comply with them. They are for your benefit and for my pleasure. If you follow these rules to my satisfaction, I shall reward you. If you don't, I shall punish you, and you will learn..." He whispered and I glanced at the rack of canes as he said that.

"And where does all this fit in?" I waved my hand in the general direction of the room.

"It's all part of the incentive package. Both reward and punishment."

"So you'll get your kicks by exerting your will over me..."

"It's about gaining your trust and your respect, so you'll let me exert my will over you, I will gain a great deal of pleasure, joy even, in your submission. The more you submit, the greater my joy, it's a very simple equation."

"Okay, and what do I get out of this?" 

He shrugged and looked almost apologetic.

"Me." He simply said and raked his hand through his hair as he gazed at me. "You're not giving anything away, Louis..." He murmured, exasperated. "Let's go back downstairs where I can concentrate better. It's very distracting having you in here..." He held his hand out to me and I was hesitant to take it. 

_Liam said he was dangerous; he was right. How did he know? He's dangerous to my health because I know I'm going to say yes and part of me doesn't want to. Part of me wants to run screaming from this room and all it represented. I am so out of my depth here._

"I'm not going to hurt you, Louis..." He added and I knew he was telling the truth. I took his hand and he led me out the door. "If you do this, let me show you..." Rather than going back downstairs, he turned right out of the playroom, as he called it, and down a corridor. We passed several doors until we reached the one at the end. Beyond it was a bedroom with a large double bed, all in white, everything, furniture, walls, bedding. It is sterile and cold but with the most glorious view of Seattle through the glass wall. "This will be your room. You can decorate it how you like, have whatever you like in here."

"My room? You're expecting me to move in?" I couldn't hide the horror in my voice.

"Not full time. Just, say, Friday evening through Sunday. We have to talk about all that, negotiate. If you want to do this..." He added, his voice quiet and hesitant.

"I'll sleep here?"

"Yes."

"Not with you..."

"No, I told you, I don't sleep with anyone, except you when you're stupefied with drinks." His voice was reprimanding.

My mouth pressed into a hard line.

_This is what I cannot reconcile. Kind, caring Harry, who rescued me from inebriation and held me gently while I was throwing up into the azaleas, and the monster who possesses whips and chains in a special room._

"Where do you sleep?"

"My room is downstairs. Come, you must be hungry."

"Weirdly, I seem to have lost my appetite..." I murmured petulantly. 

"You must eat, Louis!" He scolded, taking my hand and led me back downstairs. Back in the impossibly big room _,_  I was filled with deep trepidation, feeling on the edge of a precipice, and I had to decide whether to jump. "I'm fully aware that this is a dark path I'm leading you down, Louis, which is why I really want you to think about this. You must have some questions." He said as he wandered into the kitchen area, releasing my hand."You've signed your NDA, you can ask me anything you want and I'll answer." I stood at the breakfast bar watching him as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a plate of different cheeses with two large bunches of green and red grapes. He set the plate down on the worktop and proceeded to cut up a French baguette. "Sit." He pointed to one of the stools at the breakfast bar, and I obeyed his command.   

 _If I'm going to do this, I'm going to have to get used to it._  

I realized he was this bossy since I met him.

"You mentioned paperwork..."

"Yes."

"What paperwork?"

"Well, apart from the NDA, a contract saying what we will and won't do. I need to know your limits, and you need to know mine. This is consensual, Louis."

"And if I don't want to do this?"

"That's fine." He said carefully.

"But we won't have any sort of relationship?" I asked.

"No."

"Why?"

"This is the only sort of relationship I'm interested in."

"Why?" I repeated and he shrugged.

"It's the way I am."

"How did you become this way?"

"Why is anyone the way they are? That's kind of hard to answer. Why do some people like cheese and other people hate it? Do you like cheese? Miss Jones, my housekeeper, has left this for supper." He took some large white plates from a cupboard and placed one in front of me. 

_We're talking about cheese... Holy crap._

"What are your rules that I have to follow?"

"I have them written down. We'll go through once we've eaten."

_Food. How can I eat now?_

"I'm really not hungry..." I whispered.

"You will eat." He said simply. "Would you like another glass of wine?" 

"Yes, please..." He poured wine into my glass and came to sit beside me while I took a hasty sip.

"Help yourself to food, Louis." 

I took a small bunch of grapes, because that I could manage.

"Have you been like this for a while?" I asked.

"Yes."

"It is easy to find men who want to do this?" I asked and he rose an eyebrow at me.

"You'd be amazed." He said dryly.

"Then why me? I really don't understand."

"Louis, I've told you. There's something about you. I can't leave you alone." He smiled ironically. "I'm like a moth to a flame." His voice darkened. "I want you very badly, especially now, when you're biting your lip again." He took a deep breath and swallowed.

My stomach somersaulted with the thought that he wanted me. 

 _In a weird way, true, but this beautiful, strange, kinky man wants me._   _How?_

"I think you have that cliché the wrong way around..." I grumbled.

_I am the moth and he is the flame and I'm going to get burned, I know._

"Eat!"

"No, I haven't signed anything yet, so I think I'll hang on to my free will for a bit longer if that's okay with you!" I answered and his eyes softened, his lips turned up into a smile.

"As you wish, Mister Tomlinson."

"How many men?" I blurted out the question, but I was so curious.

"Thirteen and two women."

_Oh, not as many as I thought._

"For long periods of time?"

"Some of them, yes."

"Have you ever hurt anyone?" 

"Yes."

"Badly?"

"No."

"Will you hurt me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Physically, will you hurt me?"

"I will punish you when you require it and it will be painful." 

_I think I feel a little faint._

"Have you ever been beaten?" I asked.

"Yes." Before I could ask him further questions, he interrupted my train of thought. "Let's discuss this is my office, I want to show you something."

_This is hard to process. Here I was foolishly thinking that I'd spend a night of unparalleled passion in this man's bed, and we're negotiating this weird arrangement._

I followed him into his office, a spacious room with another floor-to-ceiling window that opened out onto the balcony. He sat on the desk, motioning for me to sit on a leather chair in front of him, and handed me a piece of paper.

"These are the rules. They may be subject to change. They form part of the contract, which you can also have. Read the rules so we can discuss them." I nodded, grabbing the paper to start reading.

**\--**

**RULES**

**0.1 Obedience**

The Submissive will obey any instructions given by the Dominant immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditious manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Dominant excepting those activities that are outlined in hard limits (Appendix 2). The Submissive will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

**0.2 Sleep**

The Submissive will ensure to achieve a minimum of seven hours' sleep a night when not with the Dominant.

**0.3 Food**

The Submissive will eat regularly to maintain the health and well-being from a prescribed list of foods (Appendix 4). The Submissive will not snack between meals, with the exception of fruit.

 **0.4 Clothes**   

During the Term, the Submissive will wear clothing only approved by the Dominant. The Dominant will provide a clothing budget for the Submissive, which the Submissive shall utilize. The Dominant shall accompany the Submissive to purchase clothing on an ad hoc basis. If the Dominant so requires, the Submissive shall wear during the Term any adornments the Dominant shall require, in the presence of the Dominant and at any other time the Dominant deems fit.   

**0.5 Exercise**

The Dominant shall provide the Submissive with a personal trainer four times a week in hour-long sessions at times to be mutually agreed between the personal trainer and the Submissive. The personal trainer will report to the Dominant on the Submissive's progress.

**0.6 Personal Hygiene/Beauty**

The Submissive will keep the body clean and shaved and/or waxed at all times. The Submissive will visit a beauty salon of the Dominant's choosing at times to be decided by the Dominant and undergo whatever treatments the Dominant sees fit.

**0.7 Personal Safety**

The Submissive will not drink to excess, smoke, take recreational drugs, or be put in any unnecessary danger.

**0.8 Personal Qualities**

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anyone other than the Dominant. The Submissive will conduct in a respectful and modest manner at all times and must recognize that the behavior is a direct reflection of the Dominant. The Submissive shall be held accountable for any misdeeds, wrongdoings, and misbehavior committed when not in the presence of the Dominant. 

Failure to comply with any of the above will result in immediate punishment, the nature of which shall be determined by the Dominant.  

**\--**

_Holy fuck._

"Hard limits?" I asked.

"Yes. What you won't do, what I won't do, we need to specify in our agreement."

"I'm not sure about accepting money for clothes, it feels wrong..." I shifted uncomfortably, the word 'no' rattling around my head.

"I want to lavish money on you so let me buy you some clothes. I may need you to accompany me to functions and I want you dressed well. I'm sure your salary won't cover the kind of clothes I'd like you to wear even when you do a great job."

"I don't have to wear them when I'm not with you?

"No."

"Okay."  _Think of them as a uniform._ "I don't want to exercise four times a week..."

"Louis, I need you supple, strong and with stamina. Trust me, you need to exercise."

"But surely not four times a week, how about three?"

"I want you to do four."

"I thought this was a negotiation?" I said and he pursed his lips at me.

"Okay, Mister Tomlinson, another point well made. How about an hour on three days and one day half an hour?"

"Three days, three hours. I get the impression you're going to keep me exercised when I'm here." I explained and he smiled wickedly, his eyes glowing as if relieved.

"Yes. I am. Okay, agreed. Are you sure you don't want to intern at my company? You're a good negotiator."

"No, I don't think that's a good idea..." I stared down at his rules.

"So, limits. These are mine." He handed me another piece of paper. 

 **\--**   

 **HARD LIMITS**   

No acts involving fire play.

No acts involving urination or defecation and the products thereof.

No acts involving needles, knives, piercing, or blood.

No acts involving gynecological medical instruments.

No acts involving children or animals.

No acts that will leave any permanent marks on the skin.

No acts involving breath control.

No activity that involves the direct contract of electric current (whether alternating or direct), fire or flames to the body.

**\--**

_Ugh. He had to write these down! Of course, they all look very sensible and, frankly, necessary. Any sane person wouldn't be involved in this sort of thing, surely. Though I now feel a little queasy._

"Is there anything you'd like to add?" He asked kindly. I was completely stumped and he gazed at me, furrowing his brow."Is there anything you won't do?"

"I don't know..."

"What do you mean you don't know?" He asked and I squirmed uncomfortably, biting my lip.

"I've never done anything like this..."

"Well, when you've had sex, was there anything that you didn't like doing?" He asked again and, for the first time in what seemed ages, I blushed. "You can tell me, Louis. We have to be honest with each other or this isn't going to work." I squirmed uncomfortably again and stared at my knotted fingers. "Tell me." He commanded.

"Well, I haven't had sex before so I don't know..." My voice sounded small. I peeked up at him and he gasped at me, frozen and really pale.

"Never?" He whispered and I shook my head. "You're a virgin?" He breathed and I nodded, flushing again. He closed his eyes and seemed to be counting to ten. When he opened them again, he was reallyangry, glaring at me. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" He growled.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louis has a uterus so he has his own, let's call it slick, on his butt when he gets excited, so don't worry, and condoms have a little lube too.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and paced up and down his office, two hands, marking double exasperation. His usual concrete control seemed to have slipped a notch.

"I don't understand why you didn't tell me." He castigated me.

"The subject never came up, I'm not in the habit of revealing my sexual status to everyone I meet. I mean, we hardly know each other." I kept staring at my hands for a while before I peeked up at him. 

_Why am I feeling guilty? Why is he so mad?_

"Well, you know a lot more about me now." He snapped, his mouth pressed into a hard line. "I knew you were inexperienced but a virgin!" He said it like it was a really dirty word. "Hell, Lou, I just showed you...." He groaned. "Have you ever been kissed, apart from by me?"

"Of course I have!" I tried my best to look affronted. 

_Maybe only twice._

"And a nice young man hasn't swept you off your feet? I just don't understand. You're twenty-one, nearly twenty-two. You're beautiful." He ran his hand through his hair again and I flushed with pleasure.  _Harry Styles thinks I'm beautiful._  I knotted my fingers together, staring at them hard, trying to conceal my goofy grin. Perhaps he was farsighted, I thought. "And you're seriously discussing what I want to do when you have no experience." His brows knitted together. "How have you avoided sex? Tell me, please." I just shrugged to answer.  

"No one's really, you know..."  _Come up to scratch me, only you and you turned out to be some kind of monster._ "Why are you so angry with me?" I whispered.

"I'm not angry with you, I'm angry with myself. I just assumed...." He sighed. He looked at me shrewdly and then shook his head. "Do you want to go?" He asked and his voice just turned to be gentle.

"No, unless you want me to go..." I murmured.

_Oh no, I don't want to leave._

"Of course not, I like having you here." He frowned as he said it and then he glanced at his watch. "It's late." He turned to look at me. "You're biting your lip." His voice husky and he was eyeing me speculatively.

"Sorry..."

"Don't apologize. It's just that I want to bite it, too... Hard." I gasped. "Come." He murmured.

"What?"

"We're going to rectify the situation right now."

"What do you mean? What situation?" 

"Your situation, Lou. I'm going to make love to you, now."

"Oh..." The floor fell away.

_I'm a situation._

"That's if you want to, I mean, I don't want to push my luck."

"I thought you didn't make love, I thought you fucked hard..." I swallowed, my mouth dry _._ He gave me a wicked grin and I felt the effects of which traveled all the way down there.

"I can make an exception or maybe combine the two, we'll see. I really want to make love to you, please, come to bed with me. I want our arrangement to work, but you really need to have some idea what you're getting yourself into. We can start your training tonight just with the basics. This doesn't mean I've come over all hearts and flowers, it's a means to an end, but one that I want and hopefully you do, too." His gazed intense, making me flush. 

_Oh my, wishes do come true._

"But I haven't done all the things you require from your list of rules..." My voice all breathy and hesitant.

"Forget about the rules. Forget about all those details for tonight. I want you. I've wanted you since you fell into my office and I know you want me. You wouldn't be sitting here calmly discussing punishment and hard limits if you didn't. Please, Lou, spend the night with me." 

He held his hand out to me, his eyes bright, fervent, excited and I put my hand on his. He pulled me up and into his arms so I could feel the length of his body against mine, the swift action taking me by surprise. He ran his fingers around the nape of my neck, grabbing some strands of my hair and gently pulled so I was forced to look up at him while he gazed down at me.

"What-"

"You are one brave young man." He whispered. "I am in awe of you." His words were like some kind of incendiary device and I felt my blood flaming. He leaned down to press our lips gently before sucking my lower lip. "I want to bite this lip." He murmured against my mouth and carefully he tugged at it with his teeth and I moaned, making him smile. "Please, Lou, let me make love to you." 

"Yes..." I whispered because that was why I was there. He smiled triumphantly as he released me and took my hand to lead me through the apartment. 

His bedroom looked vast. with the ceiling-height windows looking out on lit-up Seattle high-rises. The walls white, and the furnishings pale blue. The enormous bed ultramodern, made of rough, gray wood like driftwood, four posts but no canopy. On the wall above a stunning painting of the sea.    

I was quaking like a leaf. 

_This is it. Finally, after all this time. I'm going to do it, with none other than Harry Styles._

My breath was shallow and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He removed his watch and placed it on top of a chest of drawers matching the bed, only dressed in his white linen shirt and jeans.  _He is heart-stoppingly beautiful._ His dark copper hair looking like a mess, his shirt hanging out, his green eyes bold and dazzling.

He stepped out of his boots and reached down to take his socks off individually before he turned, gazing at me, his expression soft.

"Are you a carrier?"

_What? Shit, I never did the test._

"I don't think so..." He opened the top drawer of the chest and removed a packet of condoms, his expression soft.

"Be prepared." He murmured. "Do you want the blinds drawn?"

"I don't mind..." I whispered. "I thought you didn't let anyone sleep in your bed."

"Who says we're going to sleep?" He murmured.

He strolled slowly toward me, confident, sexy, eyes blazing and my heart began to pound.My blood was pumping through my body, desire _,_ trick and hot, pooling in my belly. He stood in front of me, staring down into my eyes. 

_He's so freaking hot._

"Let's get this jacket off, shall we?" He said softly before sliding my jacket off my shoulders and placed it on the chair. "Do you have any idea how much I want you, Louis Tomlinson?" He whispered and my breath hitched, not being able to take my eyes off him.He reached up and gently ran his fingers down my cheek to my chin. "Do you have any idea what I'm going to do to you?" He added, caressing my chin. 

The muscles inside the deepest, darkest part of me clenched in the most delicious fashion way. The pain was so sweet and sharp that I wanted to close my eyes, but I was hypnotized by his eyes staring fervently into mine. He leaned down to kiss me, his lips demanding, firm and slow, molding mine. He started unbuttoning my shirt while he placed feather-like kisses across my jaw, my chin and the corners of my mouth. Slowly he peeled it off and let it fall on the floor. He stood back and gazed me.

_Do I have to mention that I started to blush?_

"I-"

"Oh, Lou." He breathed, interrupting me. "You have the most beautiful skin, pale and flawless. I want to kiss every single inch of it."  _I will do anything he wants._ "I like brunettes." He murmured and both of his hands went up to my hair, grasping each side of my head. 

He pressed our lips in a demanding kiss, his tongue and lips coaxing mine, making me moan while my tongue tentatively met his. He put his arms around me and hauled me against his body, squeezing me tightly. One hand remained in my hair, the other travels down my spine to my waist and down to my behind. His hand flexed over my backside and squeezed it gently. He held me against his hips, our erections feeling each other, which he languidly pushed against them against each other.   

I moaned once more into his mouth and could hardly contain the riotous feelings. 

_Or are they hormones?_

_I want him so badly._

Gripping his upper arms, I felt his biceps, finding him surprisingly muscular. Tentatively, I moved my hands up to his face and into his hair. I tugged gently and he groaned. He eased me towards the bed, until I felt it behind my knees and I thought he was going to push me down on to it, but he didn't. Releasing me, he suddenly dropped to his knees and grabbed my hips with both his hands to run his tongue around my navel, then gently nipped his way to my hip bone, then across my belly to my other hip bone. 

"Hm..." I groaned. 

Seeing him on his knees in front of me, feeling his mouth on me, was so unexpected and hot. My hands stayed in his hair, pulling gently as I tried to quiet my too-loud breathing. He gazed up at me through his impossibly long lashes, his eyes a scorching smoky green. His hands reached up and undid the button on my jeans and he leisurely pulled down the zipper. Without taking his eyes off mine, his hands moved beneath the waistband, skimming me and moving to my behind. His hands glided slowly down my backside to my thighs, removing my jeans as they went and I couldn't look away.

He stopped and licked his lips, never breaking eye contact _._  He leaned forward, running his nose up the apex between my thighs.

_I feel him. There._

"You smell so good..." He murmured and closed his eyes, a look of pure pleasure on his face. He reached up and tugged the duvet off the bed, pushing me gently so I could fall on to the mattress. 

"Do I?" I whispered to him.

He grasped my foot and undid my Converse, pulling off my shoes and socks as I rose myself up on my elbows to see what he was doing. He lifted my foot and ran his thumbnail up my instep. I gasped and, not taking his eyes off mine, he ran his tongue along my instep and then his teeth.

_Shit, how can I feel this there?_

I fell back onto the bed, moaning and I heard his soft chuckle.

"Oh, Lou, what I could do to you..." He whispered, then stood up to remove my jeans completely. I was just there lying on his bed dressed only in my boxers while he stared down at me. "You are so beautiful, Tomlinson..." He leaned his head down, whispering in my ear. "I can't wait to be inside you. Show me how you pleasure yourself."

"What?" I murmured almost without any voice.

"How do you make yourself feel good? I want to see." He explained and I shook my head.

"I don't..." I mumbled and he rose his eyebrows, astonished for a moment while I noticed his eyes darkening, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Well, we'll have to see what we can do about that..." His voice sounded soft, challenging, a delicious sensual threat. He undid the buttons of his jeans and slowly pulled his jeans down, his eyes on mine the whole time. He leaned down over me and grasped each of my ankles, quickly jerking my legs apart and crawled onto the bed between them. I couldn't help but squirm with need. "Keep still." He murmured before leaning down to kiss the inside of my thigh, trailing up, over the thin material of my boxers, kissing me. 

"I can't..." 

"We're going to have to work on keeping you still, baby." He trailed kisses up my belly and his tongue dipped into my navel. Still, he was heading north, kissing me across my torso as I felt my skin burning.I flushed, feeling too hot but too cold, and I was clawing at the sheet beneath me. He lied down beside me and his hand trailed up from my hip to my waist, and up to my chest. He gazed down at me, his expression unreadable, and gently passed his thumb on my nipple, making me bit my lip. 

He put his thumb right above the nipple, blowing very gentle on one as his hand moved to the other side of my chest and his thumb slowly rolled to my nipple, elongating it. I groaned, feeling the sweet sensation all the way to my groin. My fingers clasped the sheet tighter and he leaned his head down, his lips closing around the nipple then blew as I tried my best to not arch my back. 

"Oh, please!" I begged, pulling my head back as my mouth opened to let go a groan, my legs stiffening.

"Let go, baby." He murmured and his teeth closed around my nipple as his thumb and finger pulled the other one hard, making me fall apart in his hands. He moved his head up, kissing me, deeply, his tongue in my mouth absorbing my cries.  _That was extraordinary. Now I know what all the fuss is about._ He gazed down at me, a satisfied smile on his face, while I was sure there was nothing but gratitude and awe on mine. "You are very responsive..." He breathed. "You're going to have to learn to control that and it is going to be so much fun teaching you how." He kissed me again and his hand went down my chest, entering my boxers and passing his thumb on my tip. "Hm, so needy. God, I want you." 

He passed his finger around my tip for a few more times before going down to thrust his finger inside me and I bit my lip to contain a scream that wanted to escape from my lips. He started to move his finger inside me harder and harder while the rest of his hands was palming my balls.

"Ah!" I leaned my head back, feeling his lips leaving a kiss on my neck before he took his hand away from my boxers. 

Suddenly, he sat up, taking my boxers off before throwing them on the floor and I blushed with the exposition. He smiled at me, pulling off his boxers, his erection springing free.

He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a condom, putting it down his erection. He moved between my legs, spreading them farther apart and I just couldn't stop looking at his length, thinking how.

"Don't worry." He breathed, his eyes on mine. "You expand, too." He leaned down, his hands on either side of my head so he was hovering over me, staring down into my eyes, his jaw clenched, eyes burning. It was only there that I registered he was still wearing his shirt. "You really want to do this?" He whispered softly. 

"Please..." I begged.

"Pull your knees up..." He ordered softly and I was quick to obey. "I'm going to fuck you now, Mister Tomlinson." He murmured as he positioned the head of his dick at my entrance. "Hard." He whispered as he slammed into me.

"Ah!" I cried as I felt a weird pinching sensation deep inside me as he ripped through me. He was still gazing down at me, his eyes bright with ecstatic triumph, his mouth slightly open and his breathing harsh as he groaned.

"You're so tight. You okay?" He whispered and I nodded, my eyes wide and my hands on his forearms.  _I feel so full._ He stayed still, letting me acclimatize to the intrusive, overwhelming feeling of him inside me. "I'm going to move, baby..." He breathed after a moment, his voice tight. He eased back with exquisite slowness and he closed his eyes while groaning and thrusting into me again. I cried out a second time and he stilled again. "More?" He whispered with his voice raw. 

"Yes..." I breathed as he did it once more, staying still again, and I groaned, my body starting to accept him.

_Oh, damn, I want this._

"Again?" He breathed.

"Yes..."

He started to move but that time he didn't stop. He shifted onto his elbows so I could feel his weight on me, holding me down. He put my legs around his waist, moving slowly at first, easing himself in and out of me and as I grew accustomed to the alien feeling, my hips moving tentatively to meet his. He speeded up, making me moan and he pounded on, picking up speed, merciless, a relentless rhythm and I kept meeting his thrusts, feeling his tip meeting my prostate again and again.

He grasped my head between his hands, kissing me hard while his teeth pulled my lower lip. One of his hands went down to my thigh, squeezing my skin and I could feel something building deep inside me, like before. I started to stiffen more and more as he thrust on and on. My body quivered, bowing, a sheen of sweat gathering over me.

 _Oh my. I didn't know it would feel like this,_   _didn't know it could feel as good as this._

"Come for me, Lou." He whispered breathlessly and I unraveled at his words, exploding between our bodies as I reached my climax without being touched and splintered into a million pieces underneath him. I felt him come inside of the condom, calling out my name, thrusting hard as he stayed still inside me for a moment.

I was still panting, trying to slow my breathing, my thumping heart and my thoughts were in riotous disarray. 

 _Wow. That was astounding._  

I opened my eyes and he had his forehead pressed against mine, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged. Harry's eyes flickered open and gazed down at me, dark but soft, still inside me. Leaning down, he gently pressed a kiss against my forehead before pulling out of me.

"Ooh." I winced at the unfamiliarity. 

"Did I hurt you?" Harry asked as he lied down beside me propping on one elbow and he tucked a strand of my fringe behind my ear and I had to grin, widely.

"You are asking me if you hurt me?"

"The irony is not lost on me." He smiled sardonically. "Seriously, are you okay?" His eyes were intense, probing, even demanding. I stretched out beside him, feeling loose-limbed, my bones like jelly but I was relaxed, deeply relaxed. I had no idea what my body was capable of, that it could be wound so tightly and released so violently, so gratifyingly. The pleasure was just indescribable."You're bitting your lip and you haven't answered me." He frowned, grinning up at him impishly. He looked glorious with his tousled hair, burning narrowed green eyes and serious, dark expression. 

"I'd like to do that again..." I whispered and, for a moment, I thought I saw a fleeting look of relief on his face before he gazed me through hooded eyes. 

"Would you, Mister Tomlinson?" He murmured, dryly. He leaned down and kissed me very gently at the corner of my mouth. "Demanding little thing, aren't you? Turn on your front." I blinked at him momentarily and then I turned over, feeling his hand down my back to my behind.

"What are you going to do?" 

"You'll see..." He passed his thumb on my skin for a moment. "You really have the most beautiful skin and a beautiful, beautiful butt." He murmured and he shifted so that one of his legs was pushing between mine, making him be half lying across my back. I could feel the buttons of his shirt pressing into me as he gathered my hair off my face and kissed my bare shoulder. 

"Why are you wearing your shirt?" I asked and after a beat, he shuffled out of his shirt, lying back down on me, making me feel his warm skin against mine,feeling heavenly. He had a light dust of hair across his chest, which tickled my back.

"So you want me to fuck you again?" He whispered in my ear and he began to trail feather-light kisses around my ear and down my neck. 

"Yes..." I answered in response, almost not finding my voice. 

His hand moved down, skimming my waist, over my hip and down my thigh to the back of my knee. He pushed my knee up higher and my breath hitched.

_What is he doing now?_

He was between my legs, pressed against my back and his hand traveled up my thigh to my behind. He caressed my cheek slowly and then he trailed his fingers down between my legs. 

"I'm going to take you from behind, Louis..." He murmured and, with his other hand, he grasped my hair at the nape in a fist and pulled gently, holding me in place. I couldn't move my head andI was pinned beneath him, helpless. "You are mine..." He whispered. "You're only mine, don't forget it." His voice intoxicating, his words heady, seductive. I felt his growing erection against my thigh.

"I won't..." I whispered.

His long fingers reached around to gently massage my entrance, circling slowly and his breath was soft against my face as he slowly nipped me along my jaw. 

"You smell divine." He nuzzled behind my ear as his hand rubbed against me, around and around. Reflexively, my hips started to circle, mirroring his hand, as excruciating pleasure spiked through my blood like adrenaline. "Keep still." He ordered, his voice soft but urgent and he started to insert his thumb inside me, slowly, rotating it around and around.

"Ah..." I moaned.

"You like this?" He asked softly, his teeth grazing my outer ear and he started to flex his thumb slowly, in and out, while his other fingers were still circling. I closed my eyes, trying to keep my breathing under control, trying to absorb the disordered sensations that his fingers were unleashing on me. My erection pressed against the mattress, making me moan again.

"You're so responsive to my touch. Oh, Louis. I like that, I like that a lot." He whispered and I wanted to stiffen my legs but I couldn't move. He was pinning me down, keeping up a constant, slow, tortuous rhythm. It was absolutely exquisite. I moaned again and he moved suddenly.

"Harry..." I moved my hips against his fingers, leaning my head back a little. 

"Open your mouth..." He commanded and thrust his thumb in my mouth. My eyes flew open, blinking wildly. "See how you taste..." He breathed against my ear. "Suck me, baby..." His thumb pressed on my tongue and my mouth closed around him, sucking wildly. I tasted the saltiness on his thumb and the faint metallic tang of blood.  _Holy fuck, why am I bleeding?_ "I want to fuck your mouth, Louis, and I'll, soon." His voice hoarse, raw, his breathing more disjointed. 

"Hm..." I moaned, biting his finger and he pulled my hair tighter, painfully, to make me release him. 

"Naughty, sweet boy." He whispered and he reached over to the bedside table for a foil packet. "Stay still, don't move." He ordered as he released my hair. He leaned down, his weight on me again and he grabbed my hair, holding my head immobile so I couldn't move. 

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice raspier than before.

"We are going to go real slow this time, Louis." He breathed. "Look at this beautiful butt..." He passed his hands on my butt cheeks, separating them and he pressed his tip on my entrance before he buried in me.  _Stretching, filling, relentless._ I moaned loudly, feeling him deeper. I moaned again and he deliberately circled his hips before pulling back. He paused a beat and then eased his way back in, repeating the motion again and again.

_It's driving me insane, his teasing me, deliberately slow thrusts and the intermittent feeling of fullness is overwhelming._

"Oh, please!" I begged, arching my hips. 

"Oh, you feel so good..." He groaned and my inside started to quiver. He pulled back and waited. "Oh no, baby, not yet." He murmured as the quivering ceased, he started the whole delicious process again. 

"Please..." I begged again since I was not sure I could take much more.My body wounded so tight, craving release.

"I want you sore, baby..." He murmured as he continued his sweet, leisurely torment, backward, forward. "Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here. Only me. You are mine." I groaned.

"Please, Harry..." I whispered.

"What do you want, Louis? Tell me." I groaned again while he pulled out and slowly came back into me, circling his hips once more. "Tell me." He murmured. 

"You, please." He increased the rhythm infinitesimally and his breathing became more erratic. My inside started quickening again and Harry picked up the rhythm.

"You are so sweet..." He murmured between each thrust. "I want you so much!" He said and I moaned. "You are mine. Come for me, baby." He growled. His words were my undoing, tipping me over the precipice. My body convulsed around him and I came, loudly calling out a garbled version of his name into the mattress. Harry followed with two sharp thrusts and he froze, pouring himself into me as he found his release. He collapsed on top of me, his face in my hair. "Fuck, Lou." 

He breathed, pulling out of me immediately and rolled onto his side of the bed. I pulled my knees up to my chest dirty with dry semen, utterly spent and I, immediately, drifted off or passed out into an exhausted sleep. 

**ººº**

When I woke up, I looked through the window, seeing that it was still dark. I had no idea how long I slept but my chest was clean.I stretched out beneath the duvet, and I felt sore, deliciously sorebut Harry was just nowhere to be seen. I sat up, staring out at the cityscape in front of me. There were fewer lights on among the skyscrapers and a whisper of dawn in the east. 

I heard music _,_ the lilting notes of the piano, a sad, sweet lament. 

I wrapped the duvet around me and quietly padded down the corridor towards the big room. Harry was at the piano, completely lost in the melody he was playing, his expression sad and forlorn, like the music.

_His playing is stunning._

Leaning against the wall at the entrance, I listened, enraptured.  _He's such an accomplished musician._  He sat bare chest, his body bathed in the warm light cast by a solitary freestanding lamp beside the piano with the rest of the large room in darkness.

_It's like he's in his own isolated little pool of light, untouchable, lonely, in a bubble._

I padded quietly towards him, enticed by the sublime, melancholy music. I was mesmerized, watching his long, skilled fingers as they found and gently pressed the keys, thinking how those same fingers have expertly handled and caressed my body. I flushed and gasped at the memory, pressing my thighs together. He glanced up, his unfathomable green eyes bright, his expression unreadable. 

"Sorry..." I whispered. "I didn't want to disturb you..." A frown flitted across his face. 

"Surely, I should be saying that to you..." He murmured as he finished playing and put his hands on his legs, making me notice that he was wearing PJ pants. He ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, his pants hanging from his hips, in that way. My mouth went dry as he casually strolled around the piano towards me with his broad shoulders, narrow hips and his abdominal muscles rippled as he walked. "You should be in bed..." 

"That was a beautiful piece..." I decided to ignore. "Bach?"

"Transcription by Bach, but it's originally an oboe concerto by Alessandro Marcello."

"It was exquisite but very sad, such a melancholy melody..." I said and his lips quirked up in a half smile. 

"Bed." He ordered. "You'll be exhausted in the morning."

"I woke up and you weren't there..."

"I find it difficult to sleep and I'm not used to sleeping with anyone." He murmured. 

He seemed a little despondent but it was difficult to tell in the darkness. Perhaps it was the tone of the piece he was playing. He put his arm around me and gently walked me back to the bedroom.

"How long have you been playing? You play beautifully."

"Since I was six."

"Oh." 

_Harry as a six-year-old boy._

"How are you feeling?" He asked when we were back in the room and he switched on a sidelight.

"I'm good..." We both glanced down at the bed at the same time, seeing a little blood on the sheets.

_Where did it come from?_

"Well, that's going to give my housekeeper something to think about..." Harry muttered as he stood in front of me. He put his hand under my chin and tipped my head back, staring down at me. His eyes intense as he examined my face and I realized that I've not seen his naked chest before. Instinctively, I reached out to run my fingers through the smattering of dark hair on his chest to see how it feels but he stepped back out of my reach, immediately.

"Why?"

"Get into bed..." He ignored my question and said sharply. "I'll come and lie down with you..." I dropped my hand and frowned.  _I don't think I've ever touched his torso._  He opened a chest of drawers and pulled out a T-shirt, dressing it quickly. "Bed." He ordered again and I climbed back onto the bed, trying not to think about the blood. He clambered in beside me and pulled me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me so I was facing away from him. He kissed my hair gently, before inhaling deeply. "Sleep, sweet Lou." He murmured and I closed my eyes.

_Harry Styles has a sad side._


	9. Chapter 9

Light filled the room, coaxing me from deep sleep to wakefulness and I stretched out before opening my eyes.

 _It's a beautiful May morning, Seattle at my feet._   _Wow, what a view._

Beside me, Harry Styles was fast asleep.

 _Wow, what a view._   _I'm surprised he's still in bed_.

He was facing me, and I had an unprecedented opportunity to study him. His lovely face looked younger and more relaxed in sleep. His sculptured, pouty lips were parted slightly, and his shiny, clean hair was a glorious mess.

_How could anyone look this good and still be legal?_

I remembered his room upstairs, thinking perhaps he was not legal _._ I shook my head with so much to think about. It was tempting to reach out and touch him, but as a small child, he just looked so lovely when he was asleep. I didn't have to worry about what I was saying, what he was saying, what plans he had, especially his plans for me.

I could gaze at him all day, but I had needs, bathroom needs. After slipping out of bed, I found his white shirt on the floor and shrug it on. I walked through a door thinking that it was the bathroom, but I was in a vast walk-in closet as big as my bedroom. Lines and lines of expensive suits, shirts, shoes, and ties.

 _How can anyone need this many clothes?_   _Actually, Liam's wardrobe probably rivals this. Liam! Oh no. I didn't think about him all evening. I was supposed to text him. Crap. I'm going to be in trouble. I wonder briefly how he's getting on with Zayn._

I returned to the bedroom, Harry still asleep so I tried the other door. It was the bathroomand it was also bigger than my bedroom.

_Why does one man need so much space?_

Two sinks, I noticed with irony.

_Given he doesn't sleep with anyone, one of them can't have been used._

I stared at myself in the gigantic mirror above the sinks.

_Do I look different? I feel different. I feel a little sore if I'm honest and my muscles._

I winced as I looked in the mirror, knowing that I was going to have to process it all. Honestly, fancy falling for a man who was beyond beautiful, richer than Croesus and has a Red Room of Pain waiting for me. I shuddered, bewildered and confused.

I tried to bring order to the chaos with my fingers but failed miserably and gave up.

_Just-fucked hair doesn't suit me._

I headed back out to the bedroom and saw that sleeping beauty was still sleeping. I left him and head for the kitchen, starving.

_Oh no, Liam._

I went back to Harry's office where I last saw my phone and when I grabbed it, unlocking it, I saw three texts.

*** ARE YOU OK LOU? ***

*** Where are you, Lou? ***

*** DAMN IT LOU! ***

 

I called Liam but he didn't answer so I left him a groveling message to tell him I was alive and did not succumb to Narnia. 

_I still have to try to categorize and analyze my feelings for Harry Styles but seems like an impossible task._

I shook my head in defeat.

_I need alone time, away from here to think._

I headed to the kitchen, finding an iPod on the island in the middle of the kitchen so I grabbed it, putting the headphones in.  _There's nothing like music to cook by._ I slipped it into the chest pocket of Harry's shirt, turning it up loud and I started dancing.

_Holy hell, I'm hungry._

I was daunted by his kitchen, it looked so sleek and modern, and none of the cupboards had handles. It took me a few seconds to deduce that I had to push the cupboard doors to open them.

 _Perhaps I should cook Harry breakfast._   _He was eating an omelet the other day, um, yesterday at the Heathman._   _Jeez, so much happened since then._

I checked in the fridge, where there were plenty of eggs and decided that I wanted pancakes and bacon. I set about making some batter, dancing my way around the kitchen.

_Being busy is good, i_ _t allows me a bit of time to think but not too deeply._

The music blaring in my ears also helped to stave off the deep thoughts. I went there to spend the night in Harry Styles's bed and managed it, even though he didn't let anyone in his bed.

I smiled at my mission accomplished.  _Bigtime._  I grinned.  _Big, big time._ Suddenly I was distracted by the memory of the night before. His words, his body, his lovemaking. I closed my eyes as my body hummed at the recollection, and my muscles contracted deliciously deep in my belly.

_Fucking, not lovemaking._

I shook my head to concentrate on the task at hand.

_There is a state-of-the-art range. I think I have the hang of it._

I needed somewhere to keep the pancakes warm, and I started on the bacon with Amy Studt singing in my ear about misfits.

 _This song used to mean so much to me, that's because I'm a misfit_.  _I had never fitted in anywhere and now I have an indecent proposal to consider from King Misfit himself. Why is he this way? Nature or nurture? It's so alien to anything I know._

I put the bacon on the grill, and while it was cooking, I whisked some eggs. I turned and saw Harry sitting on one of the barstools at the breakfast bar, leaning on it, his face supported by his steepled hands, making me jump and almost scream. He was still wearing the T-shirt he slept in.

_Just-fucked hair really, really suits him, as does his designer stubble._

He looked both amused and bewildered. I froze, flushed, then gathered myself and pulled the headphones out of my ears, my knees weak at the sight of him.

"Good morning, Mister Tomlinson. You are very energetic this morning." He said dryly.

"I- I slept well..." I stuttered my explanation and his lips tried to mask his smile.

"I can't imagine why." He paused and frowned. "So did I, after I came back to bed."

"Are you hungry?"

"Very." He said with an intense look and I didn't think he was referring to food.

"Pancakes, bacon and eggs?"

"Sounds great."

"I don't know where you keep your placements..." I shrugged, trying desperately hard not to look flustered.

"I'll do that. You cook. Would you like me to put some music on so you can continue your... er... dancing?" He asked and I stared down at my fingers, knowing that I was blushing more and more. "Please, don't stop because of me. It's very entertaining." His tone was very amused and I pursed my lips. I turned and continued to whisk the eggs, probably beating them a little harder than necessary. In a moment, he was beside me gently pulling my hair to turn me. "That instrument will not protect you."

"How would you like your eggs?" I asked tartly and he smiled.

"Thoroughly whisked and beaten." He smirked and I turned back to the task at hand, trying to hide my smile because he was hard to stay mad at. Especially when he was being so uncharacteristically playful. He opened a drawer and took out two slate black placements for the breakfast bar. I poured the egg mixture into a pan, pulled out the bacon, turned it over and put it back under the grill. When I turned back around, orange juice was on the table and he was making coffee. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please, if you have some..." I found a couple of plates and placed them in the warming tray of the range. Harry reached into a cupboard and pulled out some Twinings English Breakfast tea. I pursed my lips. "Bit of a foregone conclusion, wasn't I?"

"Are you? I'm not sure we've concluded anything yet, Mister Tomlinson." He murmured.  _What does he mean by that? Our negotiations? Our relationship, whatever that is? He's still so cryptic._ I served up the breakfast on the heated plates and laid them on the placements. I hunted in the refrigerator and found some maple syrup. I glanced up at Harry, seeing him waiting for me to sit down. "Mister Tomlinson." He motioned to one of the barstools.

"Mister Styles." I nodded in acknowledgment and I climbed up, wincing slightly as I sat down.

"Just how sore are you?" He asked as he sat as well and I flushed.

_Why does he ask such personal questions?_

"Well, to be truthful, I have nothing to compare this to!" I snapped at him. "Did you wish to offer your commiserations?" I asked and I thought he was trying to stifle a smile, but I was not sure.

"No, I was wondering if we should continue your basic training."

"Oh..." I stared at him dumbfounded as I stopped breathing and everything inside me clenched tight, making me suppress my groan.

"Eat, Louis." My appetite had become uncertain again just wanting more sex."This is delicious, incidentally." He grinned at me and tried a forkful of omelet but could barely taste it.  _Basic training! I want to fuck your mouth. Does that form part of basic training?_ "Stop biting your lip. It's very distracting and I happened to know you're not wearing anything under my shirt, which makes it even more distracting." I dunked my teabag in the small pot that Harry had provided.

"What sort of basic training did you have in mind?" I asked, my voice slightly too high, betraying my wish to sound as natural, disinterested and calm as I could with my hormones wreaking havoc through my body.

"Well, as you're sore, I thought we could stick to oral skills." I choked on my tea and I stared at him, eyes wide and mouth gaping. He patted me gently on the back and passed me some orange juice.  _I can't tell what he's thinking._ "That's if you want to stay..." He added and I glanced up at him, trying to recover my equilibrium. His expression unreadable, making me feel so frustrating.

"I'd like to stay for today if that's okay, I have to work tomorrow."

"What time do you have to be at work tomorrow?"

"Nine."

"I'll get you to work by nine tomorrow." He said and I frowned.

"I'll need to go home tonight, I need clean clothes."

"We can get you some here."  _I don't have spare cash to spend on clothes._ His hands came up, grabbing my chin and tugged it so my lip was released from the grip of my teeth. I was not even aware I've been biting my lip. "What is it?" He asked.

"I need to be home this evening..." I explained and his mouth formed a hard line.

"Okay, this evening." He acquiesced. "Now eat your breakfast." My thoughts and my stomach were in turmoil, my appetite vanished.I stared at my half-eaten breakfast. "Eat, Louis. You didn't eat last night."

"I'm really not hungry..." I whispered.

"I would really like you to finish your breakfast."

"What is it with you and food?" I blurted out.

"I told you, I have issues with wasted food. Eat." He snapped.  _Holy crap._   _What is that all about?_  I picked up my fork and ate slowly, trying to chew.  _I must remember not to put so much on my plate if he's going to be weird about food._  His expression softened as I carefully made my way through my breakfast and I noticed that he cleaned his plate but waited for me to finish, so he could clear my plate. "You cooked, I'll clear."

"That's very democratic."

"Yes." He frowned. "Not my usual style. After I'm done with this, we'll take a bath."

"Oh, okay..." My cell started to ring on the table, interrupting my mind to start going around. It was Liam so I picked up, quickly. "Hi." I left the kitchen, passing the living room and leaning over on the glass doors of the balcony, away from him.

 **"Lou, why didn't you text me last night?"**  He sounded angry.

"I'm sorry, I was overtaken by events."

**"You're okay?"**

"Yes, I'm fine."

 **"Did you?"**  He was fishing for information that I just couldn't tell him.

"Liam, I don't want to talk over the phone..." I said and saw Harry glancing up at me.

**"You did... I can tell."**

_How can he tell? I can't talk about this since I signed a damn agreement._

"Liam, please."

**"What was it like? Are you okay?"**

"I've told you I'm okay!"

**"Was he gentle?"**

"Liam, please!" I asked, not being able to hide my exasperation.

**"Lou, don't hold out on me, I've been waiting for this day for nearly four years."**

"I'll see you this evening!" I hang up. 

_That is going to be one difficult square to circle. He always wants to know, with details and I can't tell him because I've signed an NDA. He'll freak and rightly so. I need a plan._

I headed back to watch Harry move gracefully around his kitchen and I walked towards him. 

"Liam?"

"Yes. The NDA, does it cover everything?"

"Why?" He turned to look at me while putting the Twinings away and I blushed.

"Well, I have a few questions, you know, about sex..." I stared down at my fingers. "And I'd like to ask Liam."

"You can ask me."

"Harry, with all due respect..." My voice faded.  _I can't ask you because I'll get your biased, kinky-as-hell, distorted worldview regarding sex. I want an impartial opinion._ "It's just about mechanics, I won't mention the Red Room of Pain..." I said and he raised his eyebrows.

"Red Room of Pain? It's mostly about pleasure, Louis. Believe me." He said. "Besides, your roommate is making the beast with two backs with my brother. I'd really rather you didn't."

"Does your family know about your... um, predilection?"

"No, it's none of their business." He sauntered towards me until he was standing in front of me. "What do you want to know?" He asked and rose his hand to run his fingers gently down my cheek to my chin, tilting my head back so he could look directly into my eyes and I squirmed inwardly.

"Nothing specific at the moment..." I whispered.

"Well, we can start with, how was last night for you?" His eyes were burning, filled with curiosity looking directly into mine.

"Good..." I murmured making his lips lift slightly.

"Me too." He murmured. "I've never had vanilla sex before. There's a lot to be said for it. But then, maybe it's because it's with you." He ran his thumb across my lower lip and I inhaled sharply. "Come, let's have a bath." He leaned down and pressed our lips, making my heart leap and desire pools way down low, way down there.

The bath was a white stone, deep, egg-shaped affair, very designer. Harry leaned over and filled it from the faucet on the tiled wall. He poured some expensive-looking bath oil into the water, making it foamed as the bath filled and smelled of sweet, sultry jasmine. He stood and looked at me, his eyes dark, then peeled his T-shirt off and cast it on the floor.

"Mister Tomlinson..." He held his hand out to me. I was still standing in the doorway, wide-eyed and wary, my arms wrapped around myself. I stepped forward while surreptitiously admiring his physique and I took his hand, letting him pull me to step into the bath while I was still wearing his shirt and I did as I was told.  _I'll have to get used to it if I'm going to take him up on his outrageous offer,_   _if!_  The water was enticingly hot. "Turn around, face me." He ordered, his voice soft and again I did what I was told _._ He rolled his eyes, making me confused.

"What?"

"I know that lip is delicious, I can attest to that, but will you stop biting it?" He said through clenched teeth. "Your chewing it makes me want to fuck you and you're sore, okay?" I automatically unlocked my lip, shocked. "Yeah!" He challenged. "Got the picture?" He looked at me and I just nodded. "Good." He reached forward and took his iPod out of the chest pocket of the t-shirt and had to put it by the sink. "Water and iPods, not a clever combination." He muttered, reaching the bottom of my shirt to lift it above my head and discarded it on the floor.

"No, they are not..." I whispered almost without any voice since his eyes were on my naked body. I blushed a lot and stared down at my hands, leveling them with the base of my belly as I desperately wanted to disappear into the hot water.

"Hey!" He called and I peeked up at him, seeing his head tilted to one side. "Louis, you're a very beautiful man, the whole package, don't hang your head like you're ashamed. You have nothing to be ashamed of and it's a real joy to stand here and look at you." He took my chin in his hand and tilted my head up to reach his eyes, they were soft and warm, heated even.

_He's so close that I could just reach up and touch him._

"Thank you..." I whispered, fighting my need to touch him.

"You can sit now." He instructed and I entered the warm, welcoming water. I sat and, initial, smarting pain soon ebbed away. I lied back and briefly closed my eyes, relaxing in the soothing warmth. When I opened then, he was looking down at me.

"Why don't you join me?" I asked.

"I think I will. Move forward." He ordered before stripping out of his PJ pants and he climbed in behind me. The water rose as he sat and he pulled me against his chest. He placed his long legs over mine, his knees bent and his ankles leveled with mine and he pulled his feet apart, opening my legs. His nose was in my hair and he inhaled deeply. "You smell so good, Louis." A tremor ran through my whole body.

_I am naked in a bath with Harry Styles and he's naked too. If someone had told me I'd be doing this when I woke up in his hotel suite yesterday, I would not have believed them._

He reached for a bottle of body wash from the built-in shelf beside the bath and squirted some into his hand. He rubbed his hands together, creating a soft, foaming lather and he closed his hands around my neck and started to rub the soap into my neck and shoulders, massaging firmly with his long, strong fingers, making me groan.

_His hands on me feel good._

"Oh..."

"You like that?" He asked and I could almost hear his smile.

"Hmhm."

He moved down to my arms, then beneath them to my underarms, washing gently and I started to mentally thank Liam for insisting I should shave.His hands glided across to my chest, and I inhaled sharply as his fingers encircled my nipples and started messaging gently, as I was feeling them tender. He didn't linger long and glided his hands down to my stomach and belly. My breathing increased and my heart was racing, feeling his growing erection pressing against my behind.

_It's such a turn-on knowing that it's my body making him feel this way._

He stopped and reached for a washcloth as I panted against him, wanting, needing him. My hands rested on his firm, muscular thighs as he squirted more soap onto the washcloth, leaning down and started to wash between my legs, moving down to my hole, when I arched my back. His fingers skillfully stimulating me through the cloth, was heavenly, and my hips started moving at their own rhythm, pushing against his hand. As the sensations took over, I tilted my head back, my eyes rolling, my mouth slack, and I groaned, the pressure building slowly, inexorably inside me.

"Feel it, baby..." Harry whispered in my ear and very gently grazed my earlobe with his teeth. "Feel it for me..." My legs were pinioned by his to the side of the bath, holding me prisoner and giving him easy access to this most private part of myself.

"Oh, please..." I whispered, trying to stiffen my legs as my body went rigid.

"I think you're clean enough now..." He murmured and stopped.

_What? No! No!_

"Why are you stopping?" I gasped.

"Because I have other plans for you, Louis. Turn around, I need washing, too." He murmured.

"Oh..." I turned to face him, finding his erection firmly in his grasp, making my mouth drop open.

"I want you to become well acquainted on first terms, if you will, with my favorite and most cherished part of my body. I'm very attached to it."

His erection was above the water line, the water lapping at his hips and I glanced up at him, coming face-to-face with his wicked grin as he wasenjoying my astounded expression. I realized that I was staring and that made me swallow hard. 

I smiled at him and reached for the body wash, squirting some soap onto my hand. I did as he had done before, lathering the soap in my hands until they were foamy. I didn't take my eyes of his and my lips were parted to accommodate my breathing.I bite my bottom lip and then I ran my tongue across it, tracing where my teeth been. His eyes were serious and dark, and they widened as my tongue skimmed my lower it. I reached forward and placed one of my hands around him, feeling it much firmer than I expected, mirroring how he was holding himself, making his eyes close briefly. He placed his hand over mine as I squeezed it.

"I don't-" I started but he pressed our lips for a second, interrupting me.

"Like this..." He whispered against my lips, moving his hand up and down with a firm grip around my fingers and my fingers tightened around him, not being able to close my hand properly.He closed his eyes again while his breath started to hitch in his throat. When he opened them again, I noticed his green eyes getting darker. "That's right, baby."

He released my hand, leaving me to continue alone and closed his eyes as I moved my hand up and down his length. He flexed his hips slightly into my hand and reflexively I grasped him tighter, a low groan escaping from deep within his throat.

**_I want to fuck your mouth._ **

"Can I try something?" I asked and he nodded with a frown. I leaned forward as he closed his eyes again and I placed my lips around his dick, sucking a bit before passing my tongue over the tip.

"Whoa, Lou!" He grabbed my hair and I sucked harder. He was hard and soft at the same time, and surprisingly tasty, salty and smooth. "Christ." He groaned and I looked up between my eyelashes, seeing his head leaned back and his eyes are closed again.

"Hmm" I moaned, passing my tongue on his tip and feeling his taste all over my mouth. 

I moved my mouth down, sucking harder and feeling the inside of cheeks touching the sides of his length. I moved my mouth up, twirling my tongue around the lip once more and he flexed his hips. I put my hands on his thighs, supporting my body and I felt his legs tense beneath my touch. He grabbed my hair again, forcing my head to move up and down.

"Oh, baby, that feels good..." He murmured and I sucked hard, flicking my tongue around his dick. "Jesus, how far can you go?" He whispered and I pulled him deeper into my mouth, feeling his tip at the back of my throat and then to the front again, my tongue swirling around the end.I sucked harder and harder, pushing him deeper and deeper, swirling my tongue around and around,having no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn-on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing."Louis, I'm going to come in your mouth!" His breathy tone was like a warning. "If you don't want me to, stop now!" He thrust his hips again.

His hands really gripped my hair and I pushed even harder and, in a moment of extraordinary confidence, baring my teeth, feeling like ittipped him over the edge. He cried out and I felt his warm, salty liquid oozing down my throat, making me swallow quickly, still not sure about what happened, although he came during our bath because of me. I sat back and watched him with a triumphant, gloating smile tugging at the corners of my lips. He opened his eyes, looking at me.

"Hum..." I felt my cheeks burning and he put his hand on my chin before I could look down.

"Don't you have a gag reflex?" He asked and I shrugged, slightly. "Christ, Lou... That was really, really good. Unexpected but good. You never cease to amaze me." I smiled and consciously bite my lip, making him press our lips for a couple of seconds. "Have you done this before?"

"No..." I whispered, feeling more ashamed.

"Good." He said complacently and relieved _._ "Yet another first, Mister Tomlinson." He passed his thumb on my lower lip. "Well, you get an A in oral skills. Come, let's go to bed, I owe you an orgasm."

"Kay..." I whispered almost without any voice.

He climbed out of the bath, quickly, giving me my first full glimpse of the Adonis, divinely formed, that is Harry Styles, his dick tamed but still substantial. He wrapped a small towel around his waist, covering the essentials and held out another towel for me so I climbed out of the bath, getting closer to him. He wrapped the towel around my waist, pulling me into his arms and kissing me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I lifted my hands to touch him but he grabbed my wrists with one hand, pulling them behind my back.

He grabbed my head with his free hand and his started to explore my mouth, making me feel his gratitude for the blowjob. He let my arms go, putting his hand on the other side of my face and he stopped the kiss, slowly, staring intently into my eyes, having a lost look.

"Say yes..." He whispered and I frowned, not understanding.

"To what?"

"Yes to our arrangement. To being mine. Please, Lou." He whispered pleading, emphasizing the last word and my name. He kissed me again, sweetly, passionately, before he stood back and stared at me, blinking slightly. He took my hand, leading me back to his bedroom.

_He really wants this._

"I'm already yours..." I gathered the courage to whisper and he just stared down at me.

"Do you trust me?" He asked suddenly and I just nodded, wide-eyed with the sudden realization that I did trust him. "Good boy..." He breathed, his thumb brushing my bottom lip and he stepped away into his closet before coming back with a dark-green silk woven tie. "Hold your hands together in front of you..." He ordered as he took my towel off me, throwing it on the floor.

"Why?"

"Just do it." He ordered again and I did what he asked, for him to bind my wrists together with his tie, knotting it firmly. His eyes were bright with excitement and he tugged the binding, making sure it was secure. "You look so young with these..." He murmured and moved forward. Instinctively, I moved back until I felt the bed against the back of my knees as he dropped his towel and I was starting to get hard. I looked into his eyes, noticing his expression full of desire. "Oh, Lou, what shall I do to you?" He whispered as he lowered me onto the bed, lying beside me and raising my hands above my head. "Keep your hands up here, don't move them, understand?" His eyes burned into mine. "Answer me." He demanded.

"I won't move my hands..."

"Good boy." He murmured and he licked his lips slowly. I fixed my eyes on his tongue before looking at him, noticing him staring into my eyes and he leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on my lips.

"Your boy..." I whispered against his lips and he licked my lip.

"I'm going to kiss you all over, Mister Tomlinson..." He said while cupping my chin to push it up so he could have access to my throat. His lips glided down my throat, kissing, sucking and nipping to the small dip at the base of my neck, making me shiver as the bath experience made my skin hypersensitive.My dick was getting harder, making me groan.

I moved my hands, wanting to touch him, wanting to grab his hair and he looked at me, shaking his head from side to side before placing them above my head again.

"Please..." I whispered.

"Don't move your hands or we just have to start all over again." He scolded me.

"I want to touch you..." My voice was out of control.

"I know." He murmured. "Keep your hands above your head." He ordered.

He cupped my chin again and started to kiss my throat as before. His hands ran down my body as he reached the dip at the base of my neck with his lips. He swirled the tip of his nose around it then began a very leisurely cruise with his mouth, heading south while following the path of his hands and pressing our erections together. He kissed and sucked my nipples. and my hips started swaying and moving, grinding to the rhythm of his mouth on me as I desperately tried to remember to keep my hands above my head.

"Harry, please..." I begged and he just shook his head.

"Keep still!" He warned, his breath warm against my skin. He reached my navel, dipping his tongue inside, gently, grazing my belly with his teeth and I couldn't help but arch my back. "You are so sweet, Mister Tomlinson." His nose glided along the line between my belly and the tip of my dick, biting me gently and teasing me with his tongue.

He sat up, suddenly, kneeling at my feet before grasping both my ankles and spreading my legs wide open. He grabbed my left foot to bend my knee and to bring my foot up to his mouth. Watching and assessing every reaction of mine, he started to give tender kisses on each of my toes before biting each one of them softly. When he reached my little toe, he bitted harder, making me whimper. He glided his tongue up my instep and I closed my eyes so I could just feel. I felt his lips reaching my ankle and he started to trail kisses up my calf to my knee, stopping just above. Then he moved to my right foot, repeating the whole, seductive, mind-blowing process.

"Oh, please..." I moaned as he bit my little toe.

"All good things, Mister Tomlinson." He breathed.

He didn't stop at my knee on the right leg, he continued up the inside of my thigh, pushing my thighs apart as he did and I knew what he was going to do, part of me wanted to push him off because I was too embarrassed while the other part was glorying in anticipation. He turned to my other knee, kissing his way up my thigh again, kissing, licking, sucking and then he moved to between my legs, running his nose up and down my hole, very gentle. 

"Hmm!" I moaned and that made him stop. I opened my eyes, looking at him, my mouth open as my pounding heart struggled to calm and he kept his eyes on me. 

"Do you know how intoxicating your smell is, Tomlinson?" He murmured and I couldn't help but blush a lot,closing my eyes. He leaned his head again, blowing to my hole and I ignored my will of grabbing his hair. 

"Oh, please!" I begged.

"Hmm, I like it when you beg me, Louis." He said against my skin and I groaned, making him look at me. "Tit for tat is not my usual, Tomlinson." He whispered, blowing me again. "But you've pleased me today and you should be rewarded." I heard the wicked grin in his voice and his tongue started to slowly circle my hole as one of his hands grabbed my dick.

"Oh fuck!" I moaned as my body convulsed at the touch of this tongue and hand. 

He swirled his tongue around and around, again and again, keeping up the torture and I felt like I was losing all sense of self, every atom of my being concentrating hard on that small, potent powerhouse between my butt cheeks. He slipped his finger into me and I heard his growling groan. 

"Oh, baby, always so tight..."

He moved his finger in a wide circle, stretching me, pulling at me, his tongue mirroring his actions, inside of me as well. I moaned loudly and my body started to beg for relief. His thumb rubbed the tip of my dick and I came on his hand and my chest.

_Holy fuck._

He came back up, leaving a kiss on my lips before he aligned the tip of his dick and my hole, sliding into me. He started to move while I put my legs around his waist, feeling my hole still a little sore.

"Fuck!" I moaned as he started to move faster.

"How's this?" 

"Fine. Good." I breathed and he started to move fast and hard, thrusting into me over and over, implacable, hitting my prostate again and again until I was close to the edge once more, making me whimper. "Come for me, baby." He started to pound rapidly into me, grabbing my length again, palming me with the same velocity and it only took seconds for me to come for the second time. "Fuck!" He whispered, thrusting hard one more time and he groaned as he reached his climax, pressing himself into me and then he stayed still, his boy rigid. 

He collapsed on top of me and I felt his full weight forcing me into the mattress. I pulled my tied hands over his neck and I held him the best I could. At that moment, I knew I would do anything for that man. 

_I am his. He wanted to take this further and the wonder that he was introduced me to, it's beyond anything I could have ever imagined._

"Harry..." I called and he leaned up, staring down at me with his intense green eyes.

"See how good we are together?" He murmured. "If you give yourself to me, it will be so much better. Trust me, Louis. I can take you to places you don't even know that exists." He stroked his nose against mine, pressing our lips for a second.

_I am still reeling from my extraordinary physical reaction to him._

I looked at him blankly and, suddenly, we both became aware of voices in the hall outside his bedroom door and it took a moment to process what I could hear.

"But if he's still in bed, then he must be ill. He's never in bed at this time. Harry never sleeps in." 

"Miss Styles, please."

"Dylan! You cannot keep me from my son"

"Miss Styles, he's not alone."

"What do you mean he's not alone?"

"He has someone with him."

"Oh..."

Even I could hear the disbelief in her voice. Harry blinked rapidly, staring down at me, wide-eyed with humored horror.

"Shit, it's my mother!"


End file.
